


The Heart is a Lonely Hunter

by cakeisnotpie



Series: Hookand Wendy OUAT [4]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV), ouat
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-15
Updated: 2013-02-21
Packaged: 2017-11-21 04:13:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 34,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/593324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cakeisnotpie/pseuds/cakeisnotpie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Revenge, the saying goes, is a dish best served cold. Killian and Van discover that the impulse to protect the women they have come to care for complicates matters as they set out on their course. Meanwhile, Wendy and Ruby have plans of their own and those don't include battling a famous vampire and outwitting the evil queen's mother.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Boy Who Cried Wolf

**Author's Note:**

> I'm writing this as the story of Hook is unfolding during season 2 and am taking all sorts of liberties with the characters. This story takes advantage of the introduction of Dr. Frankenstein which opens the door to many literary characters to show up. Or maybe I just want to write a vampire tale. Either way, sit back and enjoy the ride!

STORYBROOKE – Now

“Peter Andrew Woolf!” Wendy stepped between the little boy and his intended target to glare at him. “What have I said about making up scary stories?”

The dark-headed boy hung his head and scuffed the toe of his sneaker on the library carpet. “To not tell stories ‘cause nobody’s going to believe me when I tell the truth.” 

Wendy wanted to sigh, but she couldn’t let Andrew see her exasperation; she walked a fine line between disciplining the boy and breaking his spirit. “That’s right. Now tell Gloria that there are no such things as ghosts in this world and apologize for making her cry.” She listened to the rote apology that tumbled quickly from the boy’s mouth, knowing he’d be right back to his old tricks as soon as her back was turned.

“Why don’t you pick out a book for your report?” Wendy suggested, aiming the boy at the table where Belle had organized a lovely display of possible choices for the kids.  She loved teaching, really she did, but some days the children were more difficult than others, and this was one of those days. One or two misbehaviors she could handle, but they all seemed to be stirring each other up, seeing which one could outdo the other.

“They are quite a handful today, aren’t they?” Belle spoke from beside her. Alina, the new student teacher, was rounding the kids up in the story cave for this week’s chapter. Belle had made part of the library into a hideaway; painted boxes, decorated pillows, some old carpet squares – it didn’t take much to fire up the children’s imagination. They loved to pile inside and listen to a wonderful tale.

“They miss being outside for recess. With last week’s early snow, they’ve been cooped up inside too long. Kids need to expend energy.” Cold weather had settled early into Storybrooke this year, and something about the grey skies and leftover shoveled drifts of dirty snow made Wendy uneasy. She probably was like the kids, missing the sun and being outdoors.

“I can understand that.” Belle sighed. Sometimes Wendy forgot about the long time Belle had spent locked up by Regina; the woman was so full of smiles and good will that it was easy to think nothing bad had ever happened to her. “But there are good things to do indoors as well. Like watching those moving pictures. Such amazing stories in pictures. I just watched one about pirates.”

“Pirates?” Wendy hoped it wasn’t one of the many versions of _Peter Pan_ out there. She so disliked the way they always portrayed Peter and Hook.

“Oh, yes. It was about a young man, a blacksmith, who was in love with the Governor’s daughter, but turns out he was the son of a pirate. And there’s this very funny pirate and they steal a ship to save her. It’s all very romantic. And very scary. There are monsters in it.” Belle’s eyes glowed when she talked about things she loved; Wendy sometimes envied Belle’s ability to remain positive no matter what life handed her.

“I’ve seen that one. I like the part where the pirate asks him if he’d die for the girl and when he says, yes, the pirate says, oh good.” The fact that the pirates were the heroes of the story made the movie one of Wendy’s favorites. Although, she preferred her own pirate to be a little less drunk and quite a bit sexier.

“Speaking of pirates,” Belle segued into the topic she really wanted to talk about. “Your Captain Hook is causing quite a stir in town.”

“He’s not my captain,” Wendy said automatically. It was true; Killian belonged to no one but Killian. She just borrowed him on occasions. “But I did see him in the Marina Store the other day.”

“Regina hired him to oversee the Marina. And his ship is anchored in the port. It’s all quite mysterious how he got here and why he’s here. I’m glad Emma and Snow are back, but don’t you think it odd that he arrived at the same time? Him being a pirate and all, doesn’t that worry you, what he might be planning?”

“Honestly, Belle, I have no idea what he’s up to or what’s he doing. I gave up understanding Hook a long time ago. When I was a girl, I thought he was the scariest man I’d ever met. Now? I imagine there are reasons for everything he does.” Wendy shook her head. “Just as I imagine Regina and Mr. Gold have theirs.”

At Gold’s name, Belle brightened; Wendy was certainly the last one to talk about loving a villain – and she had no illusions that Killian would do what he thought he had to in order to reach his goal – but Belle’s love for Mr. Gold wasn’t easy to understand. Her presence seemed to be making a real difference in Gold’s behavior, but Wendy couldn’t get past the things he’d done.

“You’re right,” Belle said. “Maybe what Captain Hook needs is some love in his life. Love is the greatest magic after all.”

Belle believed what she said, there was no doubt, and at 12-years-old, Wendy would have wholeheartedly agreed that the love she felt for her parents, her brothers, Peter, and Nana was indeed a magical thing. But grown up Wendy had learned how easily love could fly away, turn its back on her, and disappear. Mature love, the kind she saw with Snow and Charming that took work and luck and sweat.

“Ms. Davies?” one of the children called, a ginger-haired little girl in purple overalls. “I don’t feel well.” With a cough, the girl proceeded to throw up on the floor, much to the delight and disgust of the other kids.

It really was one of those days.

FAIRYTALE WORLD – Then

Wendy as sure she was going to be sick. The breakneck pace they’d set pushed the horses to their limits and left her feeling nauseous and aching. She’d ridden before, but side saddle at the local stables where the horses had lovely temperaments and trotted sedately around a ring. Riding pinion behind Van, rump of the horse bumping a steady rhythm that set her teeth on edge, was nothing like a sedate Sunday afternoon ride. But she wasn’t going to complain; she’d invited herself along on this adventure, and she was damn well not going to mess it up by whining about aching thighs. That was all well and good, but when they halted, finally, Van declaring they were far enough off the beaten path to avoid the Queen’s guards, Wendy embarrassed herself by sinking to the ground as soon as Van slid her off the horse.

“Oh, are you alright?” Snow White came to her side, dropping onto her knees. “Not much of a horsewoman?”

“I’ve ridden before just not at that speed for that length of time.” She didn’t want to admit her weakness, but Snow was so compassionate that Wendy immediately felt better.

“Of course not. I forget people aren’t used to life on the run.” She laughed. “I have some liniment in my pack that’s just the thing. We’ll find you a stream to wash up and then you’ll feel much better.”

“Here, I’ll take you,” Red offered her hand to Wendy, who stood up with the women’s help. “I could use a splash of water anyway.”

“Don’t wander off.” Van practically barked at them. “We’re not safe enough to go traipsing about taking baths and things. There are dangerous monsters out there.”

All three of them leveled angry looks back at the man.

“Trust me,” Red said. “I can handle myself in the woods. Come on, Wendy, let’s go.” Wendy suddenly had a new found appreciation for her companions; neither one had blinked in the face of the hunter’s orders, and her intuition told Wendy they were formidable foes in their own rights. A quick glance back, and she saw a scowl replace Van’s incredulous look as he watched the two women walk into the darkness – and his eyes were following a certain dark-haired, red hooded beauty.

STORYBROOKE – Now

“Tough day at school?” Ruby asked as she sat the brownie sundae down on the counter. It was Wendy’s favorite treat, but she rarely let herself indulge.

“You could say. Two fights, all sorts of bad attitude, and one sick child.” Wendy took a spoonful of the still warm brownie and let it slide down her throat. Yes. That made her feel better.

“Oh. That’s terrible.” Ruby brought her soda around and sat on the stool next to Wendy. 2:45 in the afternoon was a quiet time at the dinner. “But as long as you’re here …” Ruby wiggled her eyebrows, a sign that she was about to grill Wendy over the whole Killian situation. She knew it had been coming; Ruby had hinted for the last few days that they needed to talk and Wendy had been halfway avoiding it.

“Alright. I know you’re dying to.” She took another big scoop, brownie and ice cream, to get ready.

“You didn’t tell me he was young and sexy. For some reason, I imagined him older, big mustache, all smarmy and gross.” Ruby was watching her intently; the woman was far too perceptive and those wolf senses didn’t help matters either.

“You’ve been watching the Disney movie again. I just didn’t think his age was important. And you’re the one who started talking about sex the minute he walked in the door.” Going on the offense. That was a good strategy. Maybe.

“Uh-huh. I didn’t spend weeks on his ship, alone with him, sailing from Neverland.” Ruby teased. “Blue eyes, that scruffy beard. Ummmm. Could be just my type. If it’s okay with you, I might just have to ask him out.”

Hell, no, inner pirate Wendy said, wanting to slam her fist on the countertop.

“Sure. Why not? But do remember, he’s a pirate and can’t be trusted. Made me walk the plank once. And threw me overboard another time.” Wendy was surprised she managed to keep her voice even, but the big mouthful of chocolate probably helped mask her reaction.

“Uh-huh.” Ruby wasn’t buying it, obviously. Lifting up over the counter, she got a second spoon and grabbed a bite for herself. “And you’re attacking that poor defenseless brownie for no reason.”

“Hey, this one is mine,” Wendy good-naturedly joked.

“I made it big enough for both of us.” Ruby smiled. They’d shared a food that was a lot worse; Wendy shoved the dish over between them. “Now listen. I’m not usually this blunt …”

“Cough, cough, yeah, right,” Wendy interrupted, earning her a stare from those vivid green eyes.

“You gave me some really good advice once,” Ruby said. “You may regret chances not taken more than the heartache they cause.” Wendy certainly remembered that conversation, the closest she’d come to confiding in her friend. “It was him, wasn’t it? Now that I’ve met him, I can certainly see why.”

“Ruby, I …”

The door opened and he walked in. How he managed to do that was a mystery to her, to always turn up where she was, for seemingly unrelated reasons. Today, he wore a dark pea coat over a grey sweater, looking every inch the sailor he was. His eyes immediately settled on the two women, and he strolled over to them.

“Afternoon, ladies.” He rested his elbow next to Wendy and leaned against the counter. “That looks like quite an indulgence there.” Without asking permission, he swirled his finger through the whipped cream and popped it in his mouth. “Oh, now, that is lovely.” He took Wendy’s spoon from her hand, scooping up a bit of ice cream and brownie.

“Excuse me,” Wendy protested as Killian tasted, turning the spoon over as he pulled it out. Anything she was going to say next died on her lips as he licked the last of the chocolate syrup off the corner of his mouth before he took another bite.  Suddenly, all she could manage to do was think of stopping on the way home for a gallon of ice cream.

 “Would you like a sundae of your own, Captain?” Ruby asked. She shrugged at Wendy’s accusing look. “What? I’m a waitress. It’s my job.”

“Someone else’s food is always sweeter, you know.” He winked at Ruby, but when his gaze fell on Wendy, his eyes darkened. “You, um, have some chocolate right here.” She felt his thumb along the bottom of her lip, grazing out to the corner and then up her cheek, leaving a tingling trail.

“Still a pirate,” she said before she could stop herself. He was pushing it, right here in front of Ruby. “Stealing is always the answer.”

“Ah, you wound me, love. I’m a new man. Haven’t stolen anything since I got here … unless, of course, kisses count.” That damn cocky smile was aimed at both of them at full wattage; Wendy heard Ruby sigh in response. He was good, she’d give him that; determined not to fall prey to his charm, Wendy took the  from his hands and slid a bite of ice cream between her lips, making sure to lick the spoon. Let him have a taste of his own medicine.

“Well, be careful. Stealing around here will get you handcuffed, thrown in jail, or worse.” Glancing quickly, she saw the memory flicker in his eyes. She could play this game too, baiting him. When he reached for the spoon, he made sure to brush his fingers across the back of her hand.

“Jail, not so much, but handcuffs? That sounds …. interesting.” Heat pooled between her legs as he leaned closer to take the last bite; she imagined she could feel his breath on her cheek as he paused, spoon halfway to his mouth, then offered it to her, eyes locked on hers. “I didn’t say how lovely you look today in that sweater and skirt; I particularly like those boots.”

Ruby coughed and the connection broke; Wendy was embarrassed that she had forgotten her friend was even there, so caught up in their foreplay – and she knew exactly where this was leading.

“So, I hear you’re working at the Marina,” Wendy tried changing the subject to break the sensual spell between them.

“And that’s why I was looking for you,” He went along with ease, putting some space between them. “Regina thinks the Jolly Roger should earn it keep. She wants to make something called a tourist attraction out of it, bring school kids out to see a working pirate ship.”

Wendy was incredulous. “Tourists in Storybrooke? With all the strangeness?”

“Seems the town could use the money.” He shrugged, but she still couldn’t believe he would agree to the arrangement.

“Granny certainly wouldn’t mind tourists in the diner.” Ruby picked up the empty dish and took it behind the counter. “And the kids would love it. You do a whole section on pirates in class, don’t you?”

“Kids running all over your beloved ship? You’d hate it.” Wendy shook her head.

“I admit it’s not my ideal,” he said. “But Regina can be quite persuasive. And I like my heart just where it is, so I thought I’d see if you wouldn’t mind helping me keep it there. I was hoping we could use your students to do a dry run, let Regina see how it goes.”

Had he just asked for her help keeping his heart safe? The man was incorrigible. “I imagine we could do something next week. We’re just finishing up with first book of The Brotherband Trilogy, so they’d love to see the ship. Are you sure? They’re a handful.  The lost boys have nothing on my class on a bad day.”

He smiled at her, but it didn’t completely reach his eyes, so she could see his reluctance. “Madame Mayor wishes it. Perhaps we should meet and discuss what your students would like. I’d like to hear your ideas.”

The door opened and a group of dwarves came in, taking a booth; Ruby went to take their drink orders.

“Tonight?” He murmured. His eyes promised and her body responded.

“I’ll pick up some dinner.”  And some whipped crème, she thought to herself as Ruby came back to the counter.

“Ladies. I look forward to seeing you again. And sharing another sundae with you.” He tipped his head and took his leave, passing a group of teenagers coming after school.

“Don’t start.” Wendy hissed at Ruby when she started to speak; she left her money on the counter and pushed off the stool.  “Not here. We’ll talk later.”

“And just where is his heart, Wendy Darling?” Ruby asked under her breath as Wendy left the diner. “I already know where yours is.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Red doesn't like this new guy, Van, not one bit. He's overbearing and insufferable. And pretty damn handsome. Meanwhile, in Storybrooke, Killian's plan is beginning to take shape ... and Wendy learns he can do magic.

FAIRYTALE WORLD – Then

Abraham Van Helsing was one of the most insufferable men she’d ever met, and that was saying a lot, considering everything Red had been through in her life. Brutish guards, angry village elders, terrified boys – she’d dealt with them all. But this man? He was an arrogant control freak, barking out orders to them as if they were shrinking violets who had never been in the woods before tonight.  Maybe his handsome face made her think he’d be more understanding, different than the others; she knew from Charming that there were such men out there, but, at this very moment, she could only think of how hard she wanted to hit Van to shut him up.

“… it’s for your own safety,” he was saying, handing them each a small pouch. “You need to keep this with you at all times. Put on the necklace and carry the rest where you can easily reach it.” He sat on a log he’d drawn up to the small fire he’d allowed them to build. “You have no idea what we’ll be up against. I’ll try to keep you out of the fight as much as possible, but these are creatures of the darkness. They don’t come at you from the front; they’ll catch you at your weakest and exploit your deepest fears.”

“I think you’ve impressed upon us the danger, Mr. Helsing,” Snow said in a voice Red knew meant that she, too, was losing patience. “But you still haven’t told us the plan. We’re not going to just hang back; there are people who need rescuing, children, and I intend to get them back. Now, if you’d like to tell us the specifics of the assault, we’d be glad to discuss the options with you.”

Startling blue eyes turned to her, disbelief evident in the depths. “I’m sorry, but you don’t seem to understand.  The plan is that you stay behind while I kill the monster. That’s how this is going to work.”

“I believe we are the ones who hired you, Mr. Helsing,” Snow continued in that steely voice. “If you won’t cooperate, we’re perfectly willing to do this ourselves.”

“Ladies, there is no way I will allow you to go after this vampire on your own. Those people you keep going on about? They are more than likely already dead or will be shortly. That’s the most you can hope for because if they’re not, you don’t want them back. You hired me because I’m an expert, so you’d do well to listen to me.”  He was unbowed by the opposition, a stubborn set to his jaw.

Red shot a quick glance at Wendy, the newcomer to their group; her instincts were telling her that the woman was trustworthy, but she’d been wrong before. Now, she could see the frustration evident in the woman’s face. 

“Look, we all need to get some rest. We can talk about this in the morning.” Wendy suggested; she looked tired and was moving slowly, unused to such a long time in the saddle.

“Get as much sleep as you can. We rise and leave early in the morning.” He stood up and stalked away into the shadows.

“What a piece of work.” The thought spilled out of Red’s mouth. “Probably thinks women are only good for one thing.” 

“We need him,” Snow countered, calm as ever. “Let him think we’ll do as told for a while longer, at least until he gets us there.”

“Well, I think he’s an ass.” Red stood and began to open her bedroll.

“He’s been hurt before,” Wendy spoke for the first time, and Red turned to look at her. “You can see it in the way he carries himself.  Men become like him because of some pain in their lives.”

“You speak from experience,” Snow murmured, and Wendy smiled sadly.

“I imagine there’s a woman at the root of it. There almost always is,” Wendy replied.

Those words rolled in Red’s head as she got ready to sleep, spreading her blanket a little further out than the others like always, just in case.  Wendy’s words were certainly true for her own life; she’d changed since Peter’s death, since she’d killed the man she’d loved.  Maybe part of her anger at Helsing was a reaction to her own attraction to him; after all, she certainly didn’t deserve to be happy after the things she’d done. She tried to call up the memory of Peter, but his face was growing fuzzy, indistinct, just the innocent feeling of first love remaining.  A sadness overwhelmed her, and she turned from the others, not wanting them to see her tears. In a few steps, she was under the cover of the trees where she could let herself cry silently.

“You shouldn’t wander too far from the fire,” he said from behind her; he’d moved so quietly that even her senses hadn’t noticed him until just before he spoke. Standing downwind from her, he was scentless and almost invisible. She turned, and he froze at the sight of the tear tracks, glimmering in the waxing light of the moon.

“I’m sorry. I’ve intruded. I didn’t mean to interrupt.” Some of the arrogance dropped away from his face and sincere concern replaced it. “It’s just that I take my responsibility for your safety very seriously. I’ll leave, if you wish it.”

“No, that’s fine. I’m just thinking of things better left in the past.”  Brushing her hair back from her face, she noticed the way he stood, shifting his feet, uncomfortable without his mask of indifference. “We all have memories we carry with us; they either make us stronger or destroy us.”

“True,” he seemed to decide something and took the few steps to be within touching distance. “And it pains me to know that someone as lovely as you has suffered.” He caught the last stray tendril of black curl and tucked it back behind her ear.

A slow heat kindled and the air fled from her lungs at his nearness; she could smell him now, all smoke and leather and some primal scent that sent tingles to her fingertips. This close, she could see the day’s end stubble on his jaw, see the tired lines that crept out from his eyes, see the sweep of his dark lashes as he blinked.

“As my Gran would say, fate makes fools of us all,” she managed to say though her mouth was suddenly dry; without thinking, she licked her lips to moisten them and his eyes were immediately drawn down to them.  His hand started to rise, to reach for her, but then he dropped it, shutters drew closed over his face, hiding the emotion there.

 “You should be getting back to the fire. The woods may seem familiar, but the Baron has brought many of his creatures with him, and they’ll roam far and wide.” He caught her elbow as if to escort her himself.

“Creatures?” Heat switched easily to anger at his high handedness.  “What kind of animals?”

“Half-men, half-mindless slaves, drones that can only follow his every whim.  They have no heart and will kill without thought.” Now he was trying to scare her, and he’d have to do a lot better than that if he wanted to make her run away from him.

“You obviously haven’t seen what Regina can do to her victims.” Sparring with him made her feel better, reminded her that she was strong.  Standing down from a fight wasn’t her first choice, and she wasn’t going to bow to his orders anytime soon.

He raised an eyebrow at her sassy response. “Hounds as big as a small horse, straight from the mouth of hell itself, breathing fire.”

“So, dogs who are miniature want-to-be dragons? Done the real thing, so I think we can handle them.” She met his gaze square, blue to green, challenging him to do better.

“Men, raised from the grave, their only thought to feed on human flesh.”

“Ogres, trolls, goblins …. All of them are pretty nasty in their own right.”

His lips quirked up in a smile at her increasingly curt answers.

“Werewolves. Men who, under the full moon, change into slavering monsters with fangs that will rip you to shreds.”

The ground opened up and swallowed Red, or at least it felt that way to her as his words cut into her. He was, after all, a monster hunter, and she was, in the end, nothing but a monster herself. 

“I may only be a woman,” she said, “but I know that fangs don’t make a monster. The deadliest evil can be cloaked in the most beautiful of forms. Don’t make the mistake of judging by the outside, Mr. Helsing. You just might miss the real danger in these woods.”  With those parting words, she swept off, leaving him standing in the darkness.

STORYBROOKE – Now

“I see you stopped by the store.” Killian leaned against the counter in Wendy’s tiny kitchen, helping her unpack the grocery bags; he examined each item as he pulled it out, curious and hungry at the same time. The food here was so much different from what he was used to, and he absolutely didn’t miss Smee’s overcooked stew of potatoes and whatever else he could find to toss in the pot.  JM lay beneath the counter, patiently hoping that some crumble or morsel would drop, little tail wagging in anticipation, occasionally nudging Killian’s leg as a reminder he was there. Turning a small round wheel covered in some kind of reflective wrapping over in his hand, he read the label. “How do you pronounce this? It’s cheese, right?”

Wendy glanced over. “Brie. Yes, it’s very good cheese.  Open it and try it. I’ve got some prosciutto, figs, a few late apples, and some crackers in the bag too. They go well with the wine. And there’s some Double Gloucester too. Nice contrast.”

His gaze fell on a brightly colored container with a bright blue top; he picked it up, turning it over in his hands, shaking it to try to determine what was inside. Tapping it on the counter, he managed to get the top to pop off.

“Be careful with ….” Before Wendy finished her thought, he bent the white nozzle and whipped cream spurted up onto his face and hands, dripping onto his sweater.  She was laughing as he tried to wipe the cold stuff out of eyes; with a dangerous look, he shook the can, pressing it down again, shooting into her hair and onto her sweater.

“Oh, I’ll get you for that,” she yanked her sweater up and off, revealing a lacy black bra beneath, laughing as she did. “If you wanted me undressed, you could have just asked.”

In a heartbeat, he was up and around the counter, his shirt and sweater off in quick moves, catching her and kissing her face and licking off the sweetness. She gasped as his hand buried into her hair, and he pressed his mouth against hers, impatient and demanding; he’d thought of little else since the diner, distracted for the whole evening, wondering what was under that bulky sweater and long skirt.

“I want you undressed,” he whispered against her lips, “naked and covered in cream.”

“Oh.” Her eyes widened, and he could see her picturing it in her mind. “That would be a sticky mess.”

“Then we’ll just have to clean up afterwards. I assume you have a tub?” His tongue caught a drop that was sliding down the side of her face.

“I have a tiny shower, hardly big enough for one,” she protested, but her breathing was quicker and her eyes dilated; she was thinking about it.

“We’ve been in tighter spaces.”

Suddenly in a hurry, she pulled at his pants, dipping her head to lick cream off of his neck, running her mouth along his jawline as fingers unbuttoned his jeans.  Almost feverishly, they undressed each other until all of their clothes were tossed onto the couch, nothing left but warm skin to rub against warm skin. Kisses turned to long tastes as Killian covered one breast with whipped cream, and Wendy’s moans vibrated though him as he ran his rough tongue over first one and then the other sensitive nipple.

“Oh, god, that has to be illegal.”

He had to chuckle at that, and he kept his lips pressed to her as he did, knowing she’d feel the sound inside of her. “Pirate,” was the only answer she needed. The desire to taste all of her pressed him on; pushing her back to the counter, he lifted her and sat her on the edge, clearing food out of the way as he did, parting her legs, opening her to his view.  She looked amazing, all flushed and wanting, body beautiful and ripe; with a wicked grin, he picked up the container.

“Oh, no, you’re not going to …” she jumped and gasped when the cold touched her, eyes fluttering closed, leaning back onto her hands as he knelt and brought his mouth to her, tongue slipping between and rasping over her clit, mixing the taste of the sweet with Wendy’s own.  She bucked her hips up into his mouth; he sucked harder and she cried out, body shaking beneath his fingers as he gripped her thigh.  “God, Killian, I can’t wait.”

He drew a line with his tongue down, circling and darting inside, then licking up the last of the cream before he dipped in again, pushing her apart with his mouth, wanting to feel her explode.  Because he knew her body so well, he rubbed the side of his hook against her clit as he thrust into her; the tremors ran through her and her muscles tightened as she came with his name tumbling out of her mouth.

“You are beautiful,” he said, rising and kissing her already swollen lips, hard cock bumping against her thigh.

“You have an exceptionally good tongue, Captain,” she murmured. “And now it’s my turn.” Slipping off the counter, she spun him around, squeezing a handful of whipped cream into the palm of her hand.

“Wendy, Wendy, Wendy,” he groaned as she slathered the cream, stroking his cock, rolling sticky fingers up and down the shaft and around the sensitive head. “What did I ever do to deserve you?”

The feel of her tongue, the long, slow strokes, made his vision go white, aware of nothing but the pleasure washing over him. He wound his fingers into her hair, winding curls around his hook, as she knelt before him; her lips parted and took him deep.  The slide and pull of her mouth sent shocks  through his body, and he strained to keep from coming too soon;  wet and hot against his feverous need, the sensation rolled through him and seemed to never end, each graze of her tongue adding to his aching need. 

“Ah, love,” he moaned, “if you don’t stop, I’m done for.”  Wendy’s mouth slipped off of him with one last long swipe of her tongue, and she smiled up at him, passion turning her blue eyes stormy.  As she rose, he caught her up in his arms, her warm skin gliding along his chest as he carried her to the bathroom door and kicked it lightly to open it.

“There’s not enough room,” she laughing protested, but he had already put her on her feet in the small room, drawing back the curtain, and flipping on the water.

“Damn fine thing, a shower.” Guiding her under the spray, he waited until she ran her hands through her hair, pushing it away from her face, and then he pressed her back against the tile wall, stepping in just enough to draw the curtain closed.  Wet hand curved around her thigh and lifted it up until the tip of his cock dragged across the liquid heat that waited for him, the two of them in a tight embrace, bodies melting together as he thrust inside her.

“Killian.” His name was on her lips, and he had to taste the honeyed flavor of her mouth, erasing the last bit of space between them as they melded into one. She wrapped her arms around his neck and he braced himself on the wall above her head as he began to move, thrusting into her again and again with groans of pleasure. Water poured over them, hot enough that steam began to float up; he felt her muscles clench around him as she shattered again, wringing her name from his lips in return, his own climax roaring through him, echoing hers.

Somehow he’d buried his face in her neck – he could barely remember through the haze of aftershocks – and he rubbed his scruff along the skin to hear her mewl of half-hearted complaint.  There was no space to push him back, so she just reached behind him to pick up shampoo.

“Since you started this, the least you can do is help clean up.” That was the Wendy voice he longed to hear, the sassy, sated tone he loved.

“Yes, Cap’n. As you wish.”

* * *

 

“This is never going to work if we keep disappearing to have sex.” Wendy offered him a slice of cheese layered with a fig and wrapped in the salty ham she’d called prosciutto. He had to admit, it was good and sexy as hell, considering he ensconced in the pillows on the bed, naked, with Wendy cuddled up next to him, food spread around.  “Ruby already suspects and others will figure it out.”

“Of course they will. You fell hard, fast.” He waited until she reached for another cracker to slip the piece of cheese off the side of the bed to the waiting puppy.  Little pink tongue rasped along his hook as the dog gobbled the treat.

“Don’t feed him, it will only encourage him.”

“You have eyes in the back of your head, woman.”

She raised an eyebrow at him. “I’m a teacher and a pirate queen. What do you expect? And don’t you dare let him on the bed.”

“Oh, I know you let him sleep with you. I should be jealous, but I suppose, just this once, I can share.” He winked and speared another fig, offering it to her.  “He can protect you when I’m not here. Speaking of which … do you trust me?”

“Yes.” Her answer mattered, more than he wanted to admit to himself, so he kept a careful watch on her expressive eyes. What he saw was nothing less than unconditional trust, and another piece of self-doubt melted away. He shifted, sitting up, and rested the curve of silver over her heart; murmuring a few words, he traced a pattern, leaving a glowing blue trail that hung in the air for a few seconds before falling onto her skin and sinking in.  Despite the question he could see on her face, she remained quiet, waiting for him to explain.

“Protection. It won’t stop Cora, but it will slow her down long enough for you to get a punch or two in and run. That’s what you need to do. Run like hell if she comes after you.”  He was deadly serious now. “I like your heart right where it is, Wendy love. She doesn’t need you in her collection.”

She ran her fingertips over her skin. “You can do magic?” Those eyes looked at him, confused and surprised.

“Magic is just the power of emotions. Hatred is a strong force; Gold, Regina and Cora are living proof of that.” He didn’t have to add that he was proof as well; Wendy already sensed the depth of his drive for vengeance. “Oh, you shouldn’t wash the deck for a bit either.  Don’t feel like sharing what we do here with the others.”

The warmth of her palm covered his chest above his own heart. “You’re protected too, right?”

“I’m a heartless son of a bitch.” He laughed, the coldness of his own words seeping in, but her heat pushed it away, and he knew his smile revealed far too much. “Besides, I gave it away already.”

Something shadowed her eyes for a moment, then flitted away; she moved her hand and turned slightly away. Why, he didn’t understand.

“About the class trip.” She was changing the subject and she could be damn stubborn about not talking when she wanted to. “It’s going to be too cold next week, so I don’t see that working.”

“It’s going to warm up in a few days, a last bit of Indian summer before the hard cold sets in.” He knew weather; every sailor learned early on to sense the coming changes.

“The Weather Channel begs to differ.” Amused again, the earlier shadow was gone. “Besides, what do you think to gain from it?”

“Regina is ripe for the picking, love. What she needs to push her in our direction is a friend, someone who understands and won’t judge her past. Someone who can see that there’s more there than just a villain.” He winked at her because she was the perfect person for the job; after all, she’d seen something worth loving in him. “We need a united front to fight Cora.”

“And if she thinks you’re seducing me, she’ll be inclined to listen, right? You’re going to let her believe you’re still working with her mother.”

“I am a bad guy, darling.” They’d moved too far apart; he pulled her back to his chest, settling her against him. It didn’t matter to him what people thought as long as Wendy was with him. “What difference does it make if she believes it?” 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wendy tries to befriend Regina, meanwhile Ruby & Van find themselves in danger.

STORYBROOKE – now

“What a lovely coat, Ms. Davies,” Regina commented as Wendy stepped on the main deck of the ship.  She glanced down at the military style jacket she was wearing; she’d bought it a while back, but hadn’t pulled it out of the closet yet.  A light wool, it was either too warm or not warm enough; only a few days like today, sunny and mid-50s, a glimpse of Indian summer before the onslaught of winter, were right. Plus, she was taking her students on a tour of a real pirate ship, and the jaunty asymmetrical bottom and pewter buttons brought back good memories.

“Thank you, Ms. Mills. I thought the students would enjoy it. As you can see, many of them dressed for the day.”

Her kids were bouncing with energy, adorned with eye patches, scarves and fake plastic swords. Little Andrew Martin kept shouting “Arrrrgggh!” at all the girls. Patty Crane had already smacked him twice, and Wendy secretly thought he deserved it. As they had climbed up the gangplank – the ship had to dock at the industrial port rather than in the Marina because the Jolly Roger’s draught – Wendy had kept a careful watch on her charges; the last thing she needed was one of them going into the water. A number of the parents had expressed unease with the outing, especially those who knew Hook’s reputation, but Wendy and the school board and the Mayor had all vouched for the safeness of the expedition. Now that they were onboard, she let out the breath she’d been holding. So far, so good.

“They do seem excited, don’t they?” Regina looked over the bobbing heads and gave a half-smile. “I think this just might work, depending upon how well today goes.”

“You truly think tourists would come to see the ship?” Wendy wasn’t sold on the idea. “I mean, with all the, um, unusual features of Storybrooke, wouldn’t it be dangerous to have tourists coming through?”

“Of course. But we can’t survive on just our own small economic output. That’s been a long standing problem. We need to lure more industries here, and tourism would help a lot of people.” Regina answered, tone clipped and sure, the old royal tone of authority. “May as well play up the magical aspects of town and benefit from it. Besides, the town is called Storybrooke.” She smiled at that.

“It’s just, well, I can’t imagine Killian, I mean Hook, enjoying this. He hates children.”  She intentionally used his first name to see Regina’s reaction and earned a sidelong glance of consideration. “What with the lost boys and” she hesitated just a second “Peter.”

“He’ll deal with it.” A cold steel threaded through Regina’s voice, but Wendy thought she sensed a hint of worry. “If he knows what’s good for him.”

“Well, now, that’s the problem, you see,” Wendy let her amusement show. “If it’s good for him, he’ll do the exact opposite, just for mischief.”

“Argh, mateys!” Mr. Smee came out on deck, dressed in his pirate gear, striped shirt and scarf around his head; good, she thought, Killian was smart enough to know that too much of his sardonic humor would be lost on the kids. Smee, on the other hand, was the perfect person to deal with them, much more patient but no less a pirate just the same.  “Are ye ready to live the life of a pirate?”

A chorus of “Yes!” mixed with “Aye” rang out.

“Good! We’re going to descend into the bowels of the ship to start our day.  Secret hiding places down there, for gold and booty, and a brig to hold the worst of the worst!” He led the children to the stairs and Wendy nodded to Alina that she’d be right behind them.

“I’ve heard that you know quite a bit about our dashing captain,” Regina said. Wendy had been expecting the question, sure that Regina would probe for information.

“Yes, indeed.” She’d thought out her approach all last night, lying in Killian’s arms, mind wandering through possible responses. “He saved my life and helped me out of a tight place.”

Dark eyes turned her way and focused intently. “Really? The story I’ve heard is that he tried to feed you to a crocodile.” Regina’s mask was firmly in place, and Wendy began to doubt Killian’s plan or if she could pull it off.

“You haven’t read the one in Henry’s book?” She kept her tone light, just like she would when talking to a student. “After our first trip to Neverland, my brothers never quite re-acclimated to life in London. They decided they wanted to go back, to see Peter again, and I might have been older, but I was still foolish when it came to men. I thought Peter would be glad to see us all. I was only partially right.”

“You were older and he wasn’t interested anymore.” Regina hit right to the heart of the matter.

“Yes.” Wendy let a little silence stretch. She hadn’t really planned on telling this much of the story, but, somehow, she knew she needed to. “And my brothers reverted to their lost boy status quickly, leaving me, a grown woman, alone on what was now a very hostile island.”

“Neverland is for children; for adults, it’s very dangerous,” her smile suggested that she’d taken advantage of that fact before. “So, you went to Hook?”

“No. He saved me from the mermaids and I threw it all back in his face.”  She had to smile at the memory of him in that cave. “Then, when I realized that pixie dust wouldn’t work, I had to swallow my pride and ask him to help me get home.”

“And he did? He doesn’t strike me as the charitable sort,” Regina sneered at that.

“Oh, I paid him handsomely. Gold opens many doors, as you know. And there was the added bonus of being able to snatch me away from Peter one more time.”

“Yes, I imagine he knew that eventually someone would wonder where you’d gone. That sounds more like Hook.”

For a few moments, they stood together, the light breeze lifting their hair as Wendy listed to laughter float up from the hold through the open hatch. She could hear everything Smee was saying; he was in the middle of a story about indians attacking the ship and how the captain had fought them off. Throughout the very censored version of the tale, Regina was watching the emotions crossing Wendy’s face.

“And now that he’s here? I’ve seen the two of you together around town.” Ah, there was the money question; could Regina use their relationship to her benefit?

“He does keep popping up doesn’t he?” It was actually easy to let her emotions seep into her voice, that breathless quality when she thought of his touch, the dreamy look in her eyes of a woman already besotted.  “He’s an incorrigible charmer, that’s true, but I’ll still watch my pocketbook near him.”

“You know, you were Henry’s favorite teacher … still are,” Regina began, “and you’ve always been protective of him, so I feel the need to warn you. He’s only out for himself, dear. The man is incapable of love.” Hardness was in her eyes … or maybe it was something else, Wendy wasn’t sure.

“I don’t believe that, Regina. Everyone is capable of love at some point.” Speak of the devil, there he was, coming out of his cabin, and Wendy almost lost her train of thought. Back in full pirate gear, leather pants, red shirt, black embroidered vest and that damn long coat, he looked every inch the Captain of the ship. She tore her eyes away from him and looked at Regina. “Terrible events can change that, I know. But sometimes, the love of the right person can change it back.”

Regina’s look was pity mixed with only the smallest glimmer of hope; she opened her mouth to respond, but Killian came up to them then, swinging his arm out and bowing. “Ladies. Madame Mayor,” he took Regina’s hand and kissed it. She raised a disbelieving eyebrow in return. “And Darling Wendy.” Leaning in, he kissed her on the cheek, letting his stubble rub against her soft skin as he backed away.

“The weather is cooperating, as expected,” He said, and a smug little smile accompanied that comment. “And, may I say, that is quite a fetching outfit, my dear. You just need a pair of boots to complete the look.” Damn him. Now she was thinking about those boots; she’d just have to punish him by wearing them, and nothing else, later tonight.

“I see you’re dressed for the part.” Regina was having none of Killian’s charm. He inclined his head in acknowledgement as squeals and laughter floated up from just below them.

“Ah, they are at the canons. Smee had the idea to have them try to pick up the cannon balls, and I think he’s telling a particularly funny story about loose ones rolling around during a storm. The man is actually good with children.” He seemed genuinely surprised by that turn of events.

“And you’re not.” Regina made it a statement.

“I prefer lovely women, it’s true,” he winked. He was turning it on full force for Regina; Wendy felt just a little stir of jealousy, even though she knew what he was doing.

“I need to go find my class,” Wendy huffed a little to let Regina see her reaction. “I think I know the way.”

FAIRYTALE WORLD -- Then

Dark windows greeted him as he returned from checking out the area; tucked safely away, most of the town residents took nightfall seriously, and they’d have to, living so isolated in the middle of the forest that was home to some seriously nasty creatures including the newest denizen. He’d hoped to learn more about the new resident of the chateau on the ridge, the one who had just appeared without warning, sending servants to town to gather up all of the necessities. But no one was talking, fear of strangers running too deep; only one young boy had stopped, but then his mother had bundled him back into the safety of their cottage, strings of garland spread above the doors and windows … he’d bet money garlic was woven in with verbena and nightsbane. These people were smart and much more willing to believe.

The Inn was just outside of town at the crossroads of the two small paths, the only option in the area; light spilled from its open door and windows where all the travelers hung out in the common room by the welcoming and warm fire. The sigils on the doorway and windows didn’t surprise him; they reinforced the power of threshold. A place like an inn didn’t have much protection, not like a home, but with the added magic, a vampire would have to exert a lot of will to enter.

He’d left the women with strict instructions to stay in their room out of sight, but he was doubtful they’d heeded his warning. They were all stubborn and headstrong, and he was about to give up trying to herd them. For some reason, they ran straight for trouble; he just didn’t understand the women here. Everyone he’d met had been like these three: reckless, smart mouthed, and, if he was honest, beautiful. Wendy Darling he could understand somewhat; when he’d gotten the message from Hook about her, he’d half expected a hardened pirate to show up, not a lovely brown-haired Londoner with bright blue eyes. She’d looked the part, and her ease of acceptance of the whole situation spoke of her own fearlessness; anyone who’d survived on the Jolly Roger had to be fairly tough.

But Snow and Red? They both looked like the kind of women who should be dressed in silk and velvet, holding court over a roomful of suitors in a Mayfair salon.  Surprised by their tenaciousness, their soft skin hid strength and resolve, Snow clearly used to leading, almost royal in her bearing. And Red? There was a well of sadness there that he’d seen that night in the woods, when he’d been tempted to do more than just touch her hair, the impulse to kiss those red lips almost overwhelming. But there was more to her, something almost … wild …. at home in the forest as much as the drawing room, something that drew him at a primal level. It had been a long time since he’d felt the stirring of interest for a woman, not since … and he didn’t even have to  do more than think her name to feel the crushing self-hatred at his failure to protect her come crashing back home in his heart.

Shutting his emotions off, he entered to find them sitting at a table, mugs in front of them, and two older gentlemen beside them; they were smiling and talking between themselves, voices hidden among the hubbub of the full room and the bard playing by the fireplace. A spike of anger flashed; he’d told them not to talk to anyone and here they were, chatting like old friends; what the hell were they doing?

“Van!” Snow said as he stopped by the table. “I’d like you to meet Roberto and Cinsero. They’re the best tinkers in the area. Come, sit with us,” she motioned to the innkeeper’s daughter who was serving the room for another drink.

“I thought we had agreed you ladies were going to retire for the evening.” He tried, really, to keep his anger from showing, but it was damned difficult when they were talking to traveling salesmen, the worst gossips in the world. Everyone in the next few towns these men visited would hear their story.  “I still think that’s the best idea.”

“Oh, you said he’d be angry, but those are thunderclouds on his brow, Snow,” the most balding of the men laughed.

The other, a little plump and dark-hair sprinkled with grey, joined in. “Boy, you’d better realize quick who you’re traveling with and just do what she wants. You’ve already lost this battle, and just don’t know it yet.”

Heat suffused his face as his anger grew; they were making fun of him. “I don’t care who you are,” he directed to Snow, “you could be the queen herself and I’d still try to protect you.”

“Maybe you need to tell Van what you were just telling us, Roberto,” Snow said. She was a peacemaker at heart, he knew, and she would try to calm the situation. Red, however, just glared at him, those green eyes filled with judgment; he met her stare evenly, calmly. Safe was safe, damn it.

The grey-haired man spoke. “Seems that the folks over in Catalin were buying warding charms like nobody’s business to protect the herds. From animals. And down in Suranne, glass bottles, pocket flasks, anything with a stopper they could carry. Since we pulled into town today, we’ve sold out of silver, in any form. And then there’s this weird story floating around about a famous monster hunter in the area, a living legend, I’m told.”

All frustration with the women left as Van heard the news; it was worse than he expected. If all three areas were under attack, a large number of the Baron’s children were roaming these woods, and worse, plenty of minions infiltrating to spread the stories, stoke the fear; hell, word of their presence was probably already in the Baron’s ear, and that meant very little time to plan or react. They had hours, maybe less, to prepare.

The tinkers seemed satisfied with Van’s nod of response, happy to see that he understood what they were saying. “Martin’s wife wouldn’t even open the door when we stopped by in broad daylight; seems he’s been hired to rebuild the walls of the old chateau, and he and his son had left strict orders for the rest of the family to stay inside the threshold. They haven’t been home in three days,” the balding man offered.

“Who sells the finest cloth and velvet around here?” Van asked. The two men exchanged looks.

“Bartram’s widow kept his business going. But she’s left town on an unexpected buying trip, rather hurriedly according to her neighbors. We usually sharpen her shears when we pass through.”

The Baron liked fine things; his first impulse would be to make his new home as elegant and opulent as possible. All of the pieces fit. Damn. “Gentlemen, I’d advise you stay in your room tonight and not leave until its full light in the morning,” he said.

“Got a last bit of the verbena and garlic if you need some,” silver haired offered.

“We’re taken care of, but thanks.” Van shook his head as the two men stood and moved off towards the stairs, giving bows to the women. He let the silence linger for a whole minute while he drank the hot buttered rum in his mug.

“Did you learn anything while you were out?” Wendy broached the question.

“Not as much as you did, it seems. All signs confirm that he’s here. The downside is that he knows I’m here too; he’ll react fast, send someone out tonight to try and confirm it.” Damn it all to hell, he’d hoped no one would know him here; traveling from one world to the next was supposed to give him the element of surprise.

“We already protected the door and window of the room; they won’t get inside,” Snow said.

“Good. You three stay there. Don’t come out, no matter what you hear, understand?” He pushed his chair back from the table.

“What about you?” Red demanded, challenging him. He glanced around, noting the eyes trained on them around the room.

“You’ll be safer if I’m out there. I can draw them away from the Inn.” He stood and tipped his head to them. “Good night, ladies.”

STORYBROOKE – now

So far the only mishap had been Andrew trying crawl over the half-door to get a sword in the armory, so the day was going down as a success. Their next to last stop was the Captain’s cabin; the room had been set up to showcase maps on the table, a sextant for setting course, and open log books. Smee launched into a very entertaining story about a captain who didn’t know his right from his left and the hijinks that ensued when they tried to sail into battle. At the end of it, Killian appeared in the doorway and the kids instinctively huddled tighter together until he’d smiled and bowed.

“Welcome aboard,” he winked at Wendy, who’d tucked herself into the back of the group, by the foot of the bed beside Regina. “I’m the Captain of this fine ship.”

“Are you Captain Hook?” Patty asked, eyes on the silver hook as it moved; a murmur ran through the group of children at that. They all knew the story; they’d read Dave Barry’s _Peter and the Starcatchers_ just a few months ago in class.

“Well, now, dear, there are many pirates with hooks; the sea is a dangerous and harsh mistress. I am Killian Jones, at your service.” That wasn’t exactly an answer, and Killian didn’t know children well enough to realize it wouldn’t satisfy anyone.

“Do you know Peter Pan?” Andrew demanded. “He’s cool! Flies, and fights with a sword, and kisses mermaids.” The other boys seemed to agree with him.

“Alas, I can’t tell you much about him.” Wendy could see his smile falter, the tension in his jaw; he caught her eyes, and a slow, wicked smile crossed his face. “But I can tell you about the adventures of Fearless Wendy, the pirate queen.” She gave a slight shake of her head; he was not going to go there, not here, not with her standing so close to the very bed they’d shared. He wiggled his eyebrows at her, and she had the sinking feeling he wasn’t going to stop. “Did she never tell you? Your teacher, Ms. Davies, has sailed the high seas herself. She even lives on a boat.”

Eighteen sets of eyes turned on her, plus Regina’s all-too-knowing gaze, and a flush rose in her cheeks. “Yes, I live on a boat. In the Marina here in Storybrooke.”

“Oh, don’t be modest. Shall I tell them the story of Wendy and the pixies? Or Wendy and the sirens?” His eyes shone with merriment and Wendy gave him her sternest teacher look.

“You’re in trouble, Captain Jones,” Andrew said solemnly. “That’s the sit down and be quiet look.” The other kids nodded in agreement.

“Thankfully, I am not afraid of your lovely teacher,” he leaned against the edge of the desk and crossed his long legs out in front of him. “I’m pretty good at getting my way. That’s what makes me a great pirate.”

“You’re going to be a dead pirate if you don’t watch it,” Wendy muttered under her breath and caught the ghost of a smile on Regina’s face at her predicament.

“So, what will it be? Pixies or sirens?” And he had the audacity to glance over at the bed as he surveyed the children; little shivers ran up her spine and heat pooled. Damn him all to hell.

“Pixies!”

“What’s a siren?”

“Isn’t Tinkerbell a pixie?”

He completely ignored the Tinkerbell question – how that little bitch got such good press in this world escaped Wendy, and she always got angry when she thought about all the DVDs and little girls who idolized the pixie – and answered the siren one instead.

“Sirens are beautiful women who sing a song so lovely that men will jump overboard and drown trying to get to them.” He was talking to the children, but looking right at her. “The story goes that Fearless Wendy had to tie the men to their bunks to hold them down and put plugs in their ears so they wouldn’t claw their own skins to get free.”

“Ewwwww,” one little girl said, but the others were rapt with attention.

“But the captain of the ship, a rather handsome young fellow, wanted to hear the song, so she tied him to the mast, just like the one out there, left him able to hear, and determined to sail past the danger. But it didn’t work. The sirens got on the ship and the captain tried to get free. She had to fire the cannons to disrupt the song and get them all to safety.” His voice was silky and smooth; ever girl in the room, herself included, were under his spell. “Word is, half the crew fell in love with her that day. The other half already were.”

“But why didn’t she jump overboard?” That was Andrew again.

“Because girls are immune to siren’s songs,” Wendy said in her most formal teacher voice. “Now, I think we’re supposed to try our hand at the wheel, isn’t that right, Mr. Smee? We don’t want to miss our bus back. It’s pizza day today.”

“That’s right, Ms. Wendy,” Smee took the hint and began ushering the kids out. “Out we go!”

Killian stayed seated as they filed out; she ignored him and turned to Regina.

“Sirens?” Regina asked, an amused look on her face.

“It was quite boring actually,” Wendy replied. “You know how these things get blown out of proportion.” She shot a quelling look at Killian, who only shrugged and continued to look sexy.

“I am well acquainted with sirens, and they are quite dangerous, even for women.” A more serious perusal from head to toe followed as Regina looked twice at Wendy. “And pixies are annoying little obnoxious creatures that can do a lot of damage. I’m impressed.”

Regina walked over to Killian and put her hands on her hips. “As to you, Hook,” she spat out his moniker with distain. “I’m watching you. There’s an old saying here: Keep your friends close and your enemies closer. I plan to keep a very tight rein on you and whatever you are up to. I don’t trust you as far as I can throw you.”

“Well, so happens I like tight reins, love,” He drawled slowly, looking right at Wendy. “And handcuffs and whipped cream.”

With an exasperated sigh, Regina turned from him. “Shall we?” She motioned towards the door, waiting for Wendy to precede her. Wendy headed out on deck, saw the children gathered on the poop deck as they took turns at the wheel; Regina walked behind her, and then pulled even with her. “For what it’s worth, I can see the appeal. But he’s using you, you know.”

“And I can’t use him for my own pleasure?” She said quietly. Startled, Regina simply stared for a moment, then she smiled and laughed.

“Oh, my dear, I have the feeling you and I may just have to become friends.”  

FAIRYTALE WORLD – then

“Is this some sort of self-sacrifice?” Red said from the stall door; she’d thrown her hood up and shadows covered her face, the only light coming from inn door. “You don’t have to do this. Tell us what’s coming and let us help.”

She watched him shake his head, resolved. “I’m sorry, but I won’t be responsible for innocent people getting hurt if I can stop it. There are a lot of people in that inn and this village who don’t deserve to be in harm’s way.”

“Van.” It was the first time she’d said it, his informal name; his eyes widened and he crossed the space to where she stood.

“It’s not that I don’t think you can take care of yourself,” he said. “I know what we’re up against and he will eat you for breakfast. It’s my job to make sure that doesn’t happen.” Catching her hood, he pushed it down, and then dragged his thumb down the side of her face. Little tendrils of warmth curled out from his touch.

“Wendy says that where you’re from women are to be protected, stay home and wait for the men.” The words came tumbling out haphazardly, the feel of his fingers on her neck, his thumb on her chin, distracting her. “You don’t know what I am capable of.”

“I’m beginning to believe you are capable of almost anything.” Blue eyes dropped to her lips and he dragged his thumb across her lower lip; breath stopped and then she released it, air brushing across the pad of his finger. More than anything, she wanted this, and she leaned into his caress, heedless of the warnings go off in her brain. Cupping her face, he dropped his mouth to hers, so light she could have dreamed it, just a whisper of breath; eyes drifted closed when he increased the pressure, tugging her chin down with his thumb to part her lips, tongue ghosting across the space.

“Well, well, Abraham, she is quite lovely. Very different than Lucy, but beautiful just the same.”

Tall and lean, skin pale, hair white blonde under his silk high hat, the man was dressed in a black suit coat, a tapestry waistcoat, riding boots gleaming black. He looked completely out-of-place in the stable of a country inn. Everyone of Red’s senses were on alert; the newcomer smelled of mold and wet dirt, of death and blood; the wolf in her rose, even though full moon was days away, some ancient hatred bringing a growl to her throat.

“We buried you Quincy. I should have known better.” Van stepped in front of Red, putting his body between her and the other man.

“Yes, you should have. But that’s a moot point now. He wants to see you. May as well bring your little rose with you. You know how he feels about taking women away from you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quincy Morris is one of the men who help Abraham Van Helsing kill Dracula in Bram Stoker's novel.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In Fairy Tale World, Snow gets help from an old friend and Wendy finds out just how jealous Hook can be. In Storybrooke, Cora makes her presence known.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fair warning: I was sick and under the influence of sinus meds when I wrote and edited this, so take that into account please.

FAIRYTALE WORLD – then

“We can’t find them in the dark,” Wendy said, looking out over the shadowy forest beyond the stables, fear settling into the pit of her stomach. With the others missing, she and Snow were on their own to decide what to do.

“I may not be as good as Van or Red, but I can track. They’re probably taking them back to the chateau, so we already know the general direction.” Snow headed off, sure of herself; Wendy wished she could be as certain as Snow appeared.  Taking a deep breath, she shifted the hastily packed bag on her shoulder and followed the raven-haired woman into the woods.  As soon as she crossed the tree line, deep shadows pooled between the trunks, pockets of black that swallowed her feet as she passed through them. Stones rolled under her soles, and her toe caught on a root; she very cautiously felt her way along, not even on a trail, but pushing through underbrush.

They continued northward for at least an hour, an unspoken agreement that not talking was best, the better to hear the absence of normal sounds of animals around them; the silence was eerie and unnerving, not natural. Twice Snow raised her hand and they paused, still, Wendy’s heartbeat so loud she was sure Snow could hear it, but nothing happened. So when he stepped out from behind two trees, seeming to appear from nowhere without warning, Wendy had to bite her lip hard to keep the startled exclamation from darting out; dressed in the Queen’s livery, he raised one finger to his lips and Snow instantly froze. Notching an arrow, he aimed directly at them; Wendy started, mind telling her body to flee, but Snow’s reassuring hand kept her in place even as he drew back the string and let the missile fly, ruffling Snow’s hair as it passed.

A cry of pain and a snarl came from behind them; quick as a flash, a second arrow flew to its mark and they were moving, Snow pulling Wendy to the side as the man drew a dagger and launched himself at the monster looming out of the night. A man, but not a man, jumped towards them, agile as a cat, eyes nothing but hunger and death; most terrifying were the clothes he wore, court finery ripped and tattered, decorated now with blood of victims.  The man made short work of the creature with his knife – silver catching in the occasionally glints of moonlight filtering through the branches – severing the head and casting it away from the body.

“We need to move. The body will draw others, some far worse.” He said, his face framed in light for a moment; Wendy could see his grey eyes and tousled brown hair before Snow grabbed her arm and tugged her along. They tried to be a quiet as possible, but moving fast through the night wasn’t easy, especially for Wendy who was far more used to city streets than the woods, but they managed somehow, making it to a small outcropping of rock by a stream to use for a shelter, the rushing water covering the sounds they made.

“What are you doing here?” Snow asked, and Wendy could tell she knew him.

“I was on my way to Ipswich when I ran across the trail of those things, whatever they are.” He took out a rag and began cleaning off his blade, dipping it in the running water more than once. “There are all kinds of new creatures here; news of the problem has reached her ears, and she’s none too happy.”

“She?” Wendy couldn’t help but ask, even though she knew she should stay quiet and listen. He turned those intense eyes towards her and smiled.

“The Queen,” he answered. “Sorry to scare you like that. It had been tracking you for a mile or more; I had to take the chance. William Humbert, at your service, ma’am.”

“He’s a friend,” Snow added, and her face showed her pleasure at finding him here. “And just the man we need to help us find Red.”

Concern filled his eyes. “Red is in trouble?”

“We think she and our guide have been taken to the chateau, the old ruins upon the ridge,” Snow replied. “Can you help us find it?”

“That’s too dangerous,” he shook his head. “Whatever has taken up residence there is powerful enough for Regina to be worried, enough to send me after an item of protection. That’s what’s in Ipswich; she believes she can best this new threat if she has it.”

Wendy exchanged a glance with Snow; they silently agreed. “What exactly are you looking for?”

He cocked an eyebrow at them, amused. “And somehow I have just gained two stowaways on my journey, haven’t I? She’ll want it back when you’re done.”

“If we do what we set out to, she won’t need it.” Snow declared. “There are children’s lives at stake; I have to save them.”

“Well I hope you can figure out riddles,” he said, sheathing his knife. “You know how magic works, no straight answers.  The Mirror says to look for, and I quote, ‘red life from the sea, twice loved, twisted by fate, without hand and heart, bathed in hate’.” He grimaced. “I know. Not much to go on, but it’s what I have.”

“You are sure it’s in the town?” Wendy knew, instantly; what, she thought, were the odds?

“Yes,” William replied.

“Then I know who has it.”

STORYBROOKE – now

“Well, you are making yourself quite at home here.”

Killian didn’t have to turn to know who stood in the doorway of his small office; the sneer in the voice and the chill in his spine was enough. Finishing his perusal of the marina logs, he calmly shut the book before he acknowledged her presence.

“That was the plan, was it not?” Settling in the chair, he propped his feet up on the edge of the desk, tilting back to look at her face. Years of anger and hatred had distorted whatever beauty may have once been there. Now, hard weathered lines marked the skin, fanning out from her perpetually narrowed eyes and stern set of her mouth. Even the elegant suit she was wearing couldn’t hide the pure evil that spun out from her haughty attitude.

“You were to get close to Regina, not spend your nights fucking a nobody,” Cora leaned over him, standing for the height advantage. “I don’t care about your petty games of retribution against that overgrown pubescent boy. What I need is my daughter’s heart in a box.”

“Did you think she would just fall at my feet in a week?” He laughed, all bravado and charm for the witch; there was only one thing Cora understood -- revenge. “You may want to go straight for the jugular, and Regina would see that coming. But a sweet young thing, her son’s favorite teacher? She she’ll use her to find out what I’m up to, to see if I can be swayed her way; after all, if the infamous Rumplestiltskin can fall in love, why not Captain Hook?”

Cora’s foot was tapping as she processed his words. “And the fact that your little toy’s best friend is Rumple’s new love?” She laughed, harsh, without any joy. “You’re playing a complex game, love. I have to say, I think I approve. Turn them all against each other. I take it you have little Wendy’s heart tucked away safely?”

His fingers twitched with the memory of her skin beneath them. “Oh, of course. A little charm goes a long way, does it not? All safe and sound right here.” He nodded absently towards the wall.

“Good.” With a wave of her hand, she moved the map, revealing the little safe; a quick incantation, the door popped open, and she drew out the small copper box. “You don’t mind if I keep this with me, do you? That is not a very safe hiding place, dear.”

It was a test, and he knew it; with a nonchalant shrug, he let her drop the box in her large purse, being sure to let an edge of uneasiness show -- tension in his shoulders, fingers tightening on his pants, a hardening of his gaze. She’d expect him to not like the invasion, and he gave her the right response. “Whatever you think best, love. You’ll give it back if I need it?”

Her smile could freeze the tropics. “Of course, Killian darling. Whenever you need it. Now, I late for a dinner date. Be sure to keep me updated on your progress.”

As she left, Killian knew he should feel regret for the person whose heart Cora was now carrying with her, but he didn’t.  Finding Regina’s stash hadn’t been all that difficult, nor had stealing a random box.  Better that poor bastard be part of her collection than Wendy.

FAIRYTALE WORLD – then

“Are you sure about this?” Snow asked for the third time as they sat in the common room of the Leaward Inn. For once, she was uncertain; Wendy knew Snow didn’t trust the man, and William’s arguments against the plan wasn’t making things any easier. They had argued with her the whole time it took to get to town, trying to come up with alternate solutions.

The woodsman leaned over to her and put a hand on her arm. “We can find another way, Wendy. There’s no need to put yourself in harm’s way.”

“Well, well. Imagine this. Wendy Darling, as I live and breathe.”

Oh, god, she thought. That was his cold voice, the one he used when facing down an enemy, just before he cut their heart from their chest. She’d not expected him yet; he should still be on the ship.

“Captain.” She turned; her seat on the bench put her head at his waist as he towered over the table. “Just the man we were looking for. Killian Jones, this is Snow White and William Humbert.”

His eyes only flitted over Snow, giving her the barest of nods, but they hardened as he took the measure of William. Balancing his boot on the edge of the bench, he leaned an elbow on his thigh, hook catching the light. The tension ratcheted up between the two men; William didn’t remove his hand from Wendy, and Hook’s smile turned deadly.

“If you wouldn’t mind, Captain,” Wendy intentionally moved, pulling away from William’s touch and putting her hand on Killian’s arm, a peace offering of sorts. “I’d like a word with you in private. You might be able to help us.”

Going with her best mother look, Wendy raised an eyebrow at Killian, trying to break through to him.  With what could only be called a feral grin, he transferred his gaze to her, hot and angry.

“Of course, love,” he said, all dangerous charm and smoldering eyes. “Anything I can do to help.” He offered her his hook, and she accepted without hesitation, rising from her seat.

“Wendy,” Snow started, but then stopped as Wendy let her mask drop for a moment, showing the other woman her heart before she closed her face up again. “We’ll be here.”

The hook at the small of her back was obstensibly there to guide her, but she felt the pressure, the pull towards him as he took her up the stairs and to a small private parlor. Even as he slammed the door shut, he had her back against the wall, his kiss a punishing plunder of her mouth; she parted her lips and let him in, offering no resistance, just acceptance and eager response.  It was her hands that brought their hips together, felt his hard length along her thigh; biting down on her lower lip, his hand buried in her hair, pulling it free from its leather thong, he wrenched his mouth away from hers.

“Didn’t take you long to find someone new? One of Regina’s rejects, is he?” His eyes flashed a warning that shouldn’t have sent a sharp pulse of arousal between her thighs, but she gasped as it did.  “Does he know how you like it, how to make you all hot and wet with just a few words?”

“I am not sleeping with him,” she ground out as his lips swooped back to claim hers again, as if he couldn’t keep from kissing her despite himself.  Catching his head, she pulled him back and looked into his dark and stormy eyes. “There’s no one but you.”

“You were going home, and now here you are with him. What am I supposed to think?” With his hook, he dragged the collar of her shirt open, pulling laces free until he could rub the silver over her hardening nipple; his hand undid her pants, fingers darting between her legs for long strokes that made it difficult for her brain to focus on anything but the driving need to have him inside her.

“Your friend didn’t have the amulet. Someone else does. William saved us in the forest and … we need to find a way … oh, god … to save Red … oh, yes … and there’s children in danger … Killian …. oh.” His fingers had found her clit and rolled her sensitive nub with his thumb as the silver of his hook teased her nipple; her head fell back along the wall, and she arched towards him. As he pressed a finger inside, she cupped his hard cock, pulling on his laces to free him into her hands.

“Ah, darling Wendy, you collect trouble, do you not?” His anger dissipated as her eyes darkened with passion, orgasm beginning to crash over her. “I can’t seem to leave you alone for five minutes.”

With a twist, his finger thrusting into her, she shattered, muscles tightening, sending a wave of pleasure straight through her. With a shudder rolling through her body, she sagged forward and rested her head on his shoulder.

“Need you.” She murmured into his neck, and then turned her head to look at him. “Inside me.”

“Yes, Captain.” The desire was too strong to go slow, and she knew her fingers curled around his cock didn’t help, she just didn’t care. Clothes disappeared, and he lifted her in his arms; she wrapped her legs around him just as he braced her back on the wall and thrust into her with a groan.  Lips came together, tongues mimicking the rhythm of their joined bodies, easy to hard. Tremors from her still quivering body began to build again to a second peak, higher than the first, rapturous and overwhelming. Moans moved to little sobs of pleasure as he thrust faster; she could only hold on as he slipped his hand between them and pulled over her clit, sending her over the edge for a second time.

“God, Wendy,” he groaned into her mouth. “So tight and wet and …” He came then with a final thrust, burying himself inside of her, as she clenched around him.

“Killian,” she groaned his name as she tried to stand on her shaky legs. Scooping her into his arms, he sank down into a chair by the empty fireplace.

“Missed you too, love,” he untangled sweaty curls that were stuck to her cheek.  “Although I’m a little disappointed I don’t get to kill a queen’s huntsman today. Would have enjoyed that.”

He only laughed at the look she gave him. “William has been a perfect gentleman, unlike some pirates I know,” she protested. She’d have put her hands on her hips for emphasis, but he was holding her and she did so enjoy the feel of her skin against the leather of his jacket, which somehow he still had on.

“Oh, then I know I have nothing to worry about since only bad boys make you all hot and bothered.”  He nuzzled her shoulder and rained little kisses along her collarbone. This was going to get out-of-hand again if he kept that up.

“Killian. I need to ask you something, and you’re not going to like it.” He hesitated, waiting for her to continue with an indulgent look.  “Van said the Baron has the amulet, but now Van and Red are missing and we think the Baron has them.”

Killian completely stilled, listening intently. “The Baron?”

She nodded, choosing her words carefully. “He’s a vampire.”

For all that she loved Killian, she had no illusions about what he was; she felt his body coil beneath her like a lion assessing his prey. “And you plan to go in guns blazing to save everyone?” The question was quiet but Wendy knew she was walking on thin ice.

“Not without taking every precaution. Regina sent William to get an item that will protect against the Baron’s powers. With that, he will have a chance to launch a rescue.” She watched his face, looking for clues, but he was all pirate at the moment, dangerous and potentially lethal.

“What is it you need, Wendy?”

She took a deep breath, knowing her answer was going to hurt them both.

“Meliah’s necklace.”

STORYBROOKE – now

“Excuse me, but do you have that book everyone is talking about, you know, the one about that Grey person?”

Belle turned to the woman but Wendy only half-listening; Andrew was about to knock over a stack of books as he fidgeted in his chair, and she was trying to get his attention without interrupting Ruby reading the Sisters Grimm to the class.  She was so into it, doing all the voices of the two sisters, their grandmother, and especially Mr. Canis, that Wendy had let the class run over time a little.

“I’m not sure,” Belle answered. “Do you know the author or the title?”

“Oh, no, but it’s about, well, you know,” the woman lowered her voice to a whisper, “sex.”

Wendy finally caught his eye and waggled her finger at Andrew; he froze in place and that might last a whole minute, she thought. “I think she means _Fifty Shades of Grey_ ,” she offered as she turned back to the check-out desk. “It was up in the new book section, but it might be checked out. It’s very popular.”

“Yes, all my friends are talking about how wonderfully romantic and positively naughty it is. I can’t wait to read it. I do so enjoy a love story, especially if the hero is a scoundrel, don’t you?” Her smile didn’t reach her eyes, couldn’t warm the ice there, and Wendy instinctively became motionless as she recognized the woman. Children’s voices erupted behind her, but she kept her focus on the real danger in the room, the woman in the expensive suit and perfectly coiffed hair, long red nails tapping lightly on the counter top as Belle checked on the book.

“I’m sorry, another patron has it, but I can put your name on the waiting list and call you as soon as it gets in.” She passed a clipboard over to Cora and smiled brightly. “Just put your information here. If it’s as good as you say, I’ll have to read it myself. I think love stories are the most powerful of all, don’t you?”

“I’m not sure that book is a love story though.” Ruby stepped up beside Wendy, and the two friends stood behind Belle. “Personally, I think it’s really just about the sex. She’s being dominated by him. Love isn’t about lists and rules and who spanks who.”

“Ruby!” Belle blushed as the first of Wendy’s students came up with their books to check out; she tilted her head towards them and gave Ruby a stern glance.

“No, I wouldn’t imagine it would be your kind of book, Red.” Even the simplest phrases sounded ominous from Cora’s red lips. “You strike me as more of a lone wolf type, probably love them and …. leave them.” The full moon was just a few days away, and Cora had to know that as she poked at Ruby; a quiet growl, deep in her throat accompanied the shift in her eyes as Ruby glared back at the challenge. “But you, Wendy? I would think you prefer the mischief makers, mama’s boys who live at home in their basements with their toys … or have your tastes changed to the grown-up version of the same? Thieves and rogues who easily steal your heart then leave you on your own?”

“If you’ve gotten what you came for, I think we’re done here.” Ruby’s voice was pure steel.

“Oh, my dears,” she laughed. “This is going to be so much fun!” With that parting shot, she turned to leave, pushing two children out of her way with a disgusted sneer, giving a last wave of her hand as she exited the library.

“Shit.” Ruby muttered at the retreating form, tugging Wendy a couple steps away from the desk. “I’d say we’re in trouble, but I suspect this is really about you and your sexy captain. He’s put you right into her path.”

“He’s not mine …”

“Others might buy that line, but don’t sell it to me. I know a happily sexy up person when I smell them.” A knowing smile lit her face. “Are you sure he’s worth it? He’s a pirate, after all.”

“Ruby,” Wendy made sure no one was listening. “You have to understand ….”

“Oh, I’m not going to tell anyone your secrets.  I’m as worried about Cora as you are. Whatever you two are up to, you can count on me.”

“You should stay out of this. It’s safer that way.”

“No way. You saved my life once; I’m here for you now.” She bent her head down to whisper into Wendy’s ear. “Besides, I’m a sucker for a good love story.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can't help it. I'm one of those people who was very upset when the writers killed off Sheriff Graham. Almost stopped watching the show. So I had to bring him back since I could.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the beginning of the full moon in Fairy Tale World, and the Baron has plans for Red & Van. In Storybrooke, Regina overhears a fight and Wendy has doubts.

FAIRYTALE WORLD – then

“You’re not his usual type, I’ll give you that.”

Red didn’t move from her place at the window; since Qunicey Morris had brought them here, she’d been locked in this room alone with nothing but her thoughts for company. Climbing down and escaping was out; there were handholds in the rocky face of the building, but little more than a ribbon of earth wound around the foundation before the steep cliff dropped off below. Whoever had built this place had picked an ideal defensible location; a sheer crag that jutted out by itself leaving only one approach to the front doors.  Even if she made it safely down, there was nowhere to go.

The woman circled Red on her left, coming into view; her smell had preceded her into the room, the sounds she made soft but clear to Red’s hearing. The stench of death, the earthy aroma of fresh turned earth, the tang of blood – Red knew exactly what the woman was despite her lovely appearance, blonde ringlets and perfect porcelain skin, her ice blue silk dress perfect down to the last fold. Keeping eyes fixed on the horizon, watching the infinitesimal lightening of the sky, Red didn’t answer even as the woman tilted her head to the side, a quizzical look in her blue eyes.

“Strong, competent – you can take care of yourself, I imagine.” Pale white hand reached for her, touched her arm; a frigidness spread from the spot where the fingers lay, the coldness of the grave. With the quick strike of a snake, she clasped Red’s wrist, fingers elongating, nails turning to claws that scratched, deep enough to draw blood; with a delicateness that belied inhuman strength, she raised her fingers to her mouth and licked the red off slowly, savoring each drop. “You can control your beast? I simply cannot get used to the changes here; things are similar and yet they are not. He will be very interested in you.”

“Why are you here in our world?”  Red kept her voice reasonable and calm, sure now that she was conversing with a vampire.

“Unfortunately, our existence was in danger at home. He brought us to this land of magic and fairy stories, where we are not out of place, can make alliances and prosper. Make others like ourselves.”

Red couldn’t help but glance at the red dribbling down her arm, worried. Van had told them all about the danger, and blood was at the center of it all.

“Oh, don’t worry, that’s not enough to even let me glamour you. Besides, you’re not human, so I have no idea how my abilities will work on you. I simply wished to see our Van Helsing’s new woman.”

“I am not his woman. I explained that to Mr. Morris already.” Red wasn’t, not really. One kiss didn’t mean anything, especially when he had no idea of what she was capable of.

“Oh, my dear,” the woman said sympathetically. “I know Abraham well, and from what Quincey told me, it maybe early, but he is definitely enamored with you.”

Red merely shrugged in response, turning back to the window; her show of indifference made the vampire annoyed. Anger suffused her face, but then was gone, replaced by a kind look.

“He has very talented lips, does he not? And his hands? Well, he understands the simplicity of a touch.”

The memory flashed – warmth, slide of tongue, pressure of a hand on her neck – but she put it aside. “Why make me jealous? What will it gain you?”

“Pleasure, perhaps. Or maybe I just miss talking to another woman about handsome suitors.” The sky changed as the sunrise threatened, reddening the grey clouds that hung low; the vampire moved back across the room towards the door. “Unfortunately, it’s time for me to go, and there will be no more time for girl talk. He has plans for you, love, and I have to admit there’s a lovely symmetry about them.”

Red felt a chill at the words; she knew they were going to use her to get to Van, play on his innate need to protect her.

“He never should have come after us and not this close to a full moon.” The woman paused at the doorway. “Oh, give my regards to Abraham when you see him. Tell him Lucy sends her love.”

STORYBROOKE – now

They were arguing, that was evident from their body language; lounging in the corner between booth and wall, arm languid across the back of the seat, he appeared at ease but was the exact opposite, tense and coiled, ready to attack, his eyes never veering from hers.  She leaned forward, elbows on the table, fingers entwined as a bridge to rest her chin, foot tapping the floor with nervous energy. Voices were low, too early in the heated discussion, still at a very early stage; Regina had to expend a little magic to hear what they were saying from her place at the counter.

“… think that I was going to roll over and do what you want?” Wendy asked. “That’s insulting.”

“It’s a simple thing, love. I’m not asking you to dance naked in the town square … although maybe for me, later … “ He gave her one of his patented cheeky grins as Regina watched them in the mirror, aware of the devastating amount of charm Hook could employ when he wanted to. Despite her protestations to the contrary, Wendy was going to be hard pressed to hold out against a full frontal assault. Regina wasn’t sure even she was capable of resisting that sultry look. Of course, she’d just hex his ass if he even started to try his wiles on her.

“Don’t you even start with that, Killian Jones. I am not some simple minded girl who melts at that damn smile.” Wendy held her ground, and Regina had to give her some grudging admiration. “Don’t try and distract me; I’m not going to do it. I know what you’re up to.”

“Meddling in my business is dangerous.” His eyes flashed at that, going deadly dark. Wendy sensed the change, giving ground and sitting up straight, hands dropping to her thighs to rub nervously back and forth. 

“Damn you, Hook. I don’t give a shit what plans you have; for all I know, they deserve whatever you’re going to do. Just leave my friends out of this.”

“You’ve forgotten who you’re dealing with. I don’t take ultimatums well from anyone.” He was pressing in on her now, leaning into her space. “No matter how good they might be in bed.”

“Right. Pirate. Going to make me walk the plank again? You can go to hell, Killian Jones, for all I care.” She glared at him; for a moment, Regina thought Hook might retaliate right there, but he reeled his temper in as a very wicked smile spread across his face. Sliding out of the booth, he tossed some bills on the table.

“Be careful, Wendy Darling. You might not want to burn your bridges quite yet. Feel free to call if you have any needs I can help you with.” That was the look of a born predator, and Regina didn’t need magic to sense the danger in the air.

“I hate to break the news to you, but the sex wasn’t that great.” Wendy gave a brittle laugh. “Peter was better.”

Everyone heard that declaration, and a collective gasp ran around the diner; patrons froze in their places, potential violence hanging by a thread. Swinging around on her stool, Regina began to clap, the sharp sounds loud in the silent waiting.

“Bravo, dear,” she stood up as she spoke. “There is something to be said for the exuberance of youth, isn’t there?”

Hook slowly turned his gaze to her, icy blue eyes meeting her severe dark brown, unbowed and unfazed. The moment stretched, and then he gave the most infinitesimal of nods, acknowledging a game well played. Bending down, he went to whisper something into Wendy’s ear and she shrank back, just a bit, but enough that he noticed. No one else heard what he said, but Regina, whose spell was still in effect.

“I have something of yours, love. Come see me if you want it back.”

And with that he sauntered out of the diner, seemingly unaffected by the encounter, a nod towards Granny as he left, the bell ringing on the door as it swung shut. Crossing the checkered tile floor, Regina slid into the booth where Wendy still sat, looking shell-shocked, but holding herself together.

“Well, that was rather dramatic and calls for some fries, don’t you think?” With a wave, she got Granny’s attention and placed the order. “Calories don’t count when you’re trashing men.”

“Mrs. Mills, I don’t ...” Wendy started, but Regina waved her off.

“It’s Regina, dear, and of course you need someone to talk to. The man is an insufferable ass.”

“I think I should just go home.” Wendy looked at the door, obviously thinking about leaving.

“Nonsense. That would be letting him win. Stay. Laugh. Act normal. That’s the best revenge.” What Regina really wanted was for Wendy to tell her everything, every fact, every suspicion, every single bit of information about Hook and whatever he was up to. 

“God, I’m so stupid, aren’t I?” Wendy dropped her head into her hands. “It was just supposed to be about sex, nothing more. I let myself get convinced that he was different now.”

“Unfortunately, that’s how men work.”

Wendy looked up at her, doubt in her eyes. Oh, the woman had it bad, Regina realized, and an annoying pang of sympathy snuck into her brain; she quickly tamped it back down. She needed Wendy if she was going to find out what Cora was up to.

“Surely you believe that people can make different choices, can change?” Wendy asked, a challenge in the question. Regina only dared hoped it was true, but experience had taught her differently.

“I think they can try,” she said hesitantly, “but it’s a very hard road. They have to want to do it and be willing to give up everything.”

“I was a fool to think he’d do that for me, wasn’t I?” A shadow crossed Wendy’s face. “To think he’d give me his heart if I gave him mine.”

A premonition clouded Regina’s mind, a memory Hook’s last whispered words, and she suddenly suspected that Wendy’s heart was no longer be hers to give.

FAIRYTALE WORLD – then

The solid wood door swung shut behind her with a thud, the speechless drone who’d brought her down here already long gone back the hallway. Darkness shrouded the cell, even at the height of the day; there were no windows, no means of light at all. As the torch receded, Red waited for her vision to sharpen, her wolf senses taking over; the familiar smell of Van came to her, and she soon could see him, slumped by the damp stone wall, half-unconscious.

“Van?”  He blinked and tried to focus on her; blood trickled down the side of his face from his temple. “You’re bleeding.” She ripped a piece of her underskirt and looked around; water dripped down the stones in the far corner, and she wet the material to gently clean his wound.

“Red? Are you okay? Did they hurt you?” Of course, his first question was about her; he’d obviously been beaten and left in this cold, dank room, but he was worried about her.

“Some bruises, nothing more. Those men … they’re not really men anymore, are they? … they were rough, but they didn’t hurt me. I’m told the Baron has plans for me, so they left me alone for the most part.” 

He caught her hand and ran his fingers up her arm to her face, unable to see more than the shadow of her movements; tracing the line of her cheek, across her brow, and along her nose, he checked to make sure she was really okay. Dragging his thumb across her lips, his face was lined with concern.

“A plan? Who told you that?” He didn’t remove his hand, cradling her face.

“She said her name was Lucy.” Sight enhanced by her wolf, she could see his reaction, surprise followed by pain then disbelief.

“Lucy’s dead.” His voice was hard, and he flinched as he denied it.

“Blonde hair, pale skin, seemed to know you. Of course, I think she was part of the game the Baron is playing with us, so who knows what’s true. Obviously, it was meant to hurt you.” Red had wandered who Lucy was after she was left in the room; clearly, she was someone Van had cared about, someone he’d kissed.

“It can’t be her. I staked her myself, cut off her head to be sure.” So matter-of-fact, the way he talked about the woman’s death, but Red could sense the pain behind it.

“She said that there was a kind of symmetry to the Baron’s plan.”

His attention snapped to her. “Did she do anything to you? She didn’t…”

“No. No bites. Nothing.” She didn’t tell him about the scratch because she’d have to explain why she wasn’t worried about being turned. Standing she began to wander the small room, looking carefully for any means of escape; they’d left her cloak alone so far, but she was sure now that they knew. Locking her in here with him – they didn’t intend for him to kill her, but the other way around. “It’s mid-afternoon. We need to get out of here before night fall. He’s coming back then.”

“You can see in here?” He used his hands to guide himself up from the floor, swaying slightly. “It’s a damn dark cave.”

“I have excellent eyesight.” That was true. “The corner is wet, but it looks like our best bet is the crumbling mortar around the door hinges. This place is very old, the stones are pulling apart. With a little work …” she bent to pick up some broken shards of stone in the corner “… and the right tool, we can work them free.” She reached back and guided him to the door; passing him the improvised tool, she put his hand where the hinges were. Using the edge, she began to dig between the stones.

“Have I told you how smart you are?” Van smiled in her general direction as he began to work.

“Actually, you haven’t,” she replied, her heart leaping a little at the compliment. He’d already said he found her pretty, but this was different; he was beginning to see her as more than just a woman to be protected. “Thank you. That means a lot to me.”

They worked in silence, listening in case someone came down the hall, Red extending her senses as far as she could. The mortar came loose easily, but there was a lot to remove; her fingers quickly tired, then ached, growing red and chaffed from the stone, yet she kept working until she could feel the heavy metal begin to wiggle, then shift. Together they used the crossbars and rocked the door; a stone broke free and thunked to the ground, loud in the silence. Freezing, they waited but no one came. Over and over, they continued, scraping and removing stones, leveraging the door until it moved, leaving enough space to slip through. She put her strength into it at the last, and she could see the frown on Van’s face at how easily the door opened.

“This way,” she whispered; the smell of fresh air came from her right.

“No, they brought me this way,” he insisted, turning left.

“How lucid were you? I remember. It’s this way. Trust me.”

He looked at her again, easier to see in the hallway with a little more light filtering in; gathering the pieces, he knew something wasn’t adding up, but they didn’t really have the time to argue. With a nod, he decided. “Lead on then. You seem to have a better handle on this.”

She followed the scent of the forest, twice taking a longer way through the dungeon to avoid drones who used torches that gave away their location long before they came into view. Down some more stairs even lower, the rancid smell of animals grew stronger, and she didn’t go anywhere near what sounded like kennels. At last, they came to a solid wall.

“Dead end. That last detour around the wolves got us lost.” Van huffed, frustrated. “Damn it. We need to backtrack.”

“No, I’m sure there’s something here.” Running her hands along the wall, she felt a stir of air. “Here. Feel.”

“Hidden entrance. There should be a release somewhere.” Feeling along, stone by stone, she heard a click and the door popped open. Sunlight flooded in, blinding them both, but they couldn’t wait. Outside was a small ledge, a tiny path cut in the rock face, zigzagging down to the valley below.

“You are bloody brilliant!” He caught her up and gave her a kiss. “Remind me not to doubt you again.”

“We have about an hour to an hour and a half before sundown.” Red knew exactly how long it would be; she could already feel the beginnings of the moon’s pull. The cape might keep her from shifting, but it only dulled the call. It bubbled under her skin, the need to run, to feel the wind in her fur.  Out of the corner of her eye, she caught his look. Soon, he’d figure it out.

“Then let’s see just how far we can get and lay some false trails. We need to find a place to hold up for until sunrise.”

STORYBROOKE – Now

“Oh, honey, I’m so sorry.” Belle dropped down beside Wendy on the bed; Ruby had waited until Regina left the diner before she corralled Wendy and took her up to Belle’s room, along with a big bag of fries and three milkshakes. “He’s a terrible man!”

“All men are jerks,” Ruby nodded sagely as she scratched Chip behind his ears; his tongue lolled out and he rolled over to present his tummy for a rub. “Even the good ones are stupid sometimes.”

“I really appreciate this, but I’m fine. Honestly.” Wendy took the chocolate shake, though. Granny made good old-fashioned, loaded with ice cream shakes. Not that she’d admit it, but some of the things they’d said had niggled into her brain, even though she knew it was all for show. Still, her doubts were getting the best of her. “It’s not like I didn’t know going into this that he was a scoundrel.”

“Scoundrels. Why are they so damn appealing?” Ruby opened the brown bag, liberally sprinkling the fries with salt. “At least tell me the sex was worth it? It would be a shame if someone that charming was a dud in bed.”

“Ruby!” Belle said in a mock shocked voice, but she spoiled it with a giggle and smile. “I’m sure Wendy doesn’t want to talk about that.”

Wendy laughed and reached for the fries, her second order in the last twenty minutes. There was some serious exercise in her future. “Two words, ladies: scarves and showers.”

“Okay, don’t tease. Details.” Ruby crossed her legs as she sat on the floor letting Chip crawl into her lap.

“Wait. In the shower? You can do that?” Belle asked.

“Sweetie, you can do it anywhere.” Ruby assured the other woman.

“But don’t we hate him now? Isn’t that what girlfriends do after a break-up? I read that in a book.” Belle protested. “Why are we talking about sex?”

“Because sex is much more interesting than a jackass like Hook, okay?” Ruby explained.

“Look, I appreciate what you are trying to do, but I just want to go home, crawl under the covers and let JM climb on the bed with me.” Wendy really did want to leave, hoping that Killian was waiting for her on the boat.  His face when she’d mentioned Peter was burned onto her retinas; the name had come tumbling out as she’d searched her brain for a parting shot.  Lies, all of it; she’d never done more than give Peter a chaste kiss, but did Killian believe that?

“You love him.” Belle always did see right to the heart of the matter; with care, she put her arm around Wendy’s shoulders.

“It doesn’t matter. He doesn’t love me.” That was hitting too close to home, and she felt the tears well up in the corners of her eyes. This was supposed to be a pretend fight; why was she suddenly so emotional? “He can’t love me.”

“Don’t say that. Everyone is capable of love. I should know.” Belle assured her, but Wendy didn’t believe it; unlike her friend, Wendy thought herself more realistic when it came to the power of revenge and hate.

“Wendy.” Voice serious now, Ruby looked up at her friend. “The way he looks at you …”

“He’s in love with a dead woman.” The words tumbled out. “I can’t compete with that.”

“Ghosts of the past.” Belle’s eyes grew dark. “I understand completely.”

How had she found herself in this situation, in love with a man who might never change, might never be able to truly return that emotion? Pushing up, Wendy stood, anxious to be gone before she began to weep in earnest. “I’m going home. Straight home. Don’t worry. Nothing but pajamas and a puppy for me tonight.” She picked up the milkshake and bag of fries as she grabbed her keys; Ruby gave her a half-smile. “I may have lousy taste in men, but I’m not stupid. These are too good to waste.”

Her friends watched her go, and she didn’t turn back, afraid to see the looks of pity in their eyes.

FAIRYTALE WORLD – then

They had been running for what seemed like hours, dodging through the long shadows of trees, moon so bright that they felt exposed. The pursuit was just behind them, searching for the scent; crisscrossing, they confused their paths, splashing through every stream, laying false trails.  But still the barks and howls followed them, always nipping at their heels. Gasping for breath, backs pressed against the wall of the small outcropping, their feet were immersed in the icy cold of the water they’d waded through to find protection. Red was shivering, trying to keep her teeth from chattering, wrapping herself in her cloak;  Van pulled her close, tucking her head onto his shoulder, letting their warmth build on each other.

“They’re not going to stop.” Red knew in her bones that those werewolves would find them; it was just a matter of time. “We can’t run all night.”

“We can and we will. If we just make it to morning, we’ll be okay.” Van didn’t believe it either, she could tell; he was just saying it to make her feel better.

“Listen to me,” she turned her face up to his. “I need you to do something for me. Whatever happens, keep my cloak and find me in the morning. The cloak is really important. Promise.”

“What are you talking about?” Van caught her shoulders and held her still, confused, his piercing blue eyes trying to follow what she was saying. “You’re staying right here with me where I can protect you.”

She had to kiss him one last time before he knew her secret; crushing her lips to his, she poured her fear and worry into the touch, her own need evident in the swipe of her tongue and the way her hands burrowed through the strands of his hair. The taste, the smell, the feel of him – all of them she imprinted on her mind for later, to remember and relive; to know that he wanted her, thought she was desirable was a precious gift.

“What are you doing?” Wary and on guard, he was suspicious when she took her mouth from his, stepping away. With deft fingers, she unlaced her bodice and began to undress, turning her back to him.  Even though they were soaking on the bottom, she folded her clothes and sat them on a small ledge of stone. Wet shoes followed until she wore nothing but her cloak, pulled closed around her body.

“You already know. Seeing in the dark. Pushing open the door. Knowing the way out.” The sadness threatened to overwhelm her; everything good in her life fell prey to this damned curse. “I’ll leave the cloak on the bank. Wait until I draw them off; you can track me afterwards. I have to have the cloak back to control it.”

“Red.” Her name was soft and tender, his hand gentle as he curved around her neck, looping fingers into her curls, but his lips were hard, drawing her in to a bruising kiss, passionate and demanding. Kiss then breath, kiss then sigh, kiss then moan – he held her tightly at the nape as he claimed the depths of her mouth as his own. The first caress of his fingers on her bare waist warmed her skin and chased back the chill that had settled inside her; with the barest of tugs, she was against his chest, cloak open enough to feel the raw silk of his shirt and leather clad thigh.  Her breasts ached and grew heavy as his hand spanned her back, an imprint of heat curling down to settle between her thighs.

“Van.” Summoning all her strength, she pushed him back, ignoring the sigh of disappointment from her own throat. Howls rolled in the night, getting closer; they had found them. “The cloak?”

“I’ll find you.”

Determined, she left, climbed dripping onto the bank, cloak pooling on the stones around her feet as she untied it. The moonlight bathed her body for only a moment, enough for one last look back, before the change took her, wolf rippling out from under human in one leap; then she was running, the hunt for enemies drawing her out into the night.              

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In Bram Stoker's Dracula, Lucy Westernos is engaged to Arthur Holmwood; it's only suggested that Lucy was the center of affection for the other men. Of course, I've made Van Helsing much younger and sexier, so making him a suitor of Lucy's isn't that big of a jump. Helsing does kill Lucy at the end of the book exactly as he says here ... but this is fanfiction, right? :)


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's time for revelations and straight talk ... Killian realizes Wendy's doubts, Van knows Red's secret, and Killian makes a hail Mary pass.

**Storybrooke -- Now**

“Nice night for a sail.”

She had to agree; despite the slight chill on the wind, the weather was unseasonably nice for this late in the year. Snuggling further into her sweater, she watched the moon’s reflection on the swells as they cast the anchor, still safely within the limits of Storybrooke. The gentle rise and fall of the deck was like coming home; the flickering light of the candles in their hurricane globes lit the small table laden with cheese and fruit. Small heaters created a warm zone around the makeshift bed with white sheets and cozy blankets. A night under the stars, so romantic that she should be swooning, but doubts were still coloring her view, a heavy weight in the pit of her stomach.

“I’m sorry.” She had to say it, get it out of the way. “About bringing up Peter. You know there was never anything between us.”

He opened a bottle of wine, getting out two glasses. Stolen sailboat, of course; they’d bring it back on the early tide, so maybe borrowed was a better word.

“It was a good line. Really sold the whole scene. Regina bought it, didn’t she?” He was in such a good mood that she was taken aback; she’d expected more anger or that cold regard he used when he put his defenses up.

“We’re having lunch on Saturday.” Toying with her glass as he filled it with white wine, she wanted to relax and enjoy herself.

“What’s the matter, love?” He leaned towards her, concern on his face. “You’re upset.” 

His hand traced her waist as he drew her closer; his breath tickled her ear as his warmth pressed against her. Lips brushed the curve of her neck, heat against cool skin, and her shivering was the stirring of passion. This was never their problem; just the lightest of touches pushed all the world aside. His hook rested just above her bellybutton as his fingers slipped beneath the edge of her sweater to touch bare skin.

“Let me love you under the stars,” he whispered. “Quit thinking and just feel.”

She wanted so much to do just that, to let the trails of his fingertips chase away the shadows. Resting her head on his shoulder, she turned into his kiss.  Corner first, then across the bottom and back along the top, he took his time to thoroughly cover her mouth. Wind stirred her hair, but she was hot where he touched her, his kiss generating even more heat; her growing need kindled a different kind of warmth.  The slow strokes of his hand wandered higher, an easy brush along the full globe of her breast, touch and retreat, then cupping the fullness to tweak her nipple. She gasped into his mouth and, with a lazy swipe, his tongue licked into her mouth, stealing a taste.

Stepping forward, she tugged her sweater over her head; reaching out, she took his hand and led him toward the bed. His eyes followed her, intent and darkening as she stopped at the edge to slip out of her jeans, kicking off her shoes.  White lace underwear with little blue bows – she felt his gaze travel over every inch of skin, bathed in the sparkling light of stars, no hurry to do more than let his eyes rove down and back up to her face.  His lips curled up in a slow smile when she bit her bottom lip, nervous habit so endearing, and she shimmied out of the last scrap of fabric she was wearing.  Following suit, he undressed with agonizing slowness, tormenting her as she watched his sweater drag up and over his head, the soft cotton shirt next, the button popped on his jeans, each boot pulled off and deposited in the pile, the lazy shove down, one leg at a time, until nothing remained but his sexy smile. Stepping forward, he caught and eased her down, soft bed and warmed sheets beneath her; looking up at his face, her heart tightening with a rush of love, she could see the whole of the night sky laid out above them.

“Ah, darling Wendy,” he murmured. “We have all the time in the world.” 

He proceeded to show her exactly what he meant; long, smooth strokes with his hand and hook traced the lines of her body as his eyes followed – shoulders, arms, waist, hips, legs, and back, hot touches like waves that washed over her as she laid open and ready for him. Then kisses followed, sultry wet and lengthy, in the sensitive places – crook of her elbows and knees, ankles and wrists, collar bone, the hollow of her hip – before he settle on her breast to take her nipple in, tongue curling around first one then the other. The burn settled in then, jolting her with each languid pass, and she arched up, begging for his touch; he chuckled against her skin, pressing kisses in the valley between her breasts, keeping to his own agenda.  By the time he finally let his mouth graze the heated flesh between her legs, she was riding her own brewing storm, hands buried in his hair; propped up on an elbow, he watched her eyes go unfocused as she felt the rough rub of his calloused thumb over her clit, making her buck and cry out.

“Come for me,” he demanded with a wicked grin that meant he knew he would get what he wanted. When he rolled her clit between his finger and thumb, she cursed at him, begged at the same time; he dipped his head and his tongue took over, tasting her as he caught the rhythm of her hips. His fingers slid into her wet, tight heat, her orgasm rolling towards its climax. As she neared the peak, he crawled back up, body covering hers, and entered her with one smooth motion, wrenching a moan from her mouth.

“Yes,” she said as she twined her hands around his back, gliding down over his muscles until she cupped his ass. Tilting her hips up, she felt him sink even further in; he never broke eye contact as he began to move, thrusting in and pulling out with slow determined strokes.  Like the motion of the water around them, they rushed onward to the crash that was coming. She broke first, clenching around him, her body vibrating from the orgasm, head falling backwards, eyes closing. In the midst of her own pleasure, she felt him pull out then the warmth as he came on her stomach, his own groans joining hers.

There was no hurry, so they took their time to float back down; he caught his t-shirt and wiped her clean before he pulled her against him, her back to his chest, and tugged up the covers. It was enough, for a time, to simply be together, sated and warm. But there were things that needed to be said, could no longer be ignored.

“Tell me what’s troubling you,” he asked, and she knew exactly what he meant. But how to explain that it was alright if he didn’t love her? That she had enough for both of them?  Thinking, she ran her hand along the arm he had looped around her waist, stroking the tattoo, tracing his beloved’s name.

“I thought I could handle it, and I will. Today just reminded me, that’s all.” The curls of the letters moved without pause under her fingers. “I love you, Killian. Just the way you are. I have no illusions, and I never want you to change. When the time comes for you to have your revenge, I want you to take it, no matter what. Promise me that.”

He pushed up on his elbow, confused; his eyes followed her hand and understanding dawned. “God, Wendy, surely you know that you are the most important thing to me.”

“Promise me. I mean it.” She insisted. That’s what love was, she knew in a moment of clarity. Wanting him to have the thing he most desired, even if it destroyed her.  “I want you to be happy.”

“Wendy Darling, you make me happy.” His eyes grew serious. “Do you remember what I told you when you asked for Meliah’s necklace?”

“Of course. I expected you to be angry and refuse. It was hers and …” she trailed off as she thought back to the conversation; she’d been sitting on his lap, feeling the tension in his body, preparing for him to turn her down, to have to argue. “You said it was already mine and not yours to give anymore, that it was …” She knew then what he’d done, and what he’d been telling her. “You said Meliah’s death took your heart, that you couldn’t love anymore. My god, Killian, you found some way to separate your heart to protect it?”

“Damn painful spell too. After Rumple had his hand in my chest, I had to do something. It’s not really your heart they take, you know, it’s the essence of who you are. They can control you with it; grind you into dust if they want. Crush it, and you die.” He shuddered at the thought.

“Graham. Oh my god, that’s how he died.” She was aghast at the realization, and she felt a wave of sadness for her friend.

“Regina probably. She’s got a whole storage crypt of hearts. So does Cora. And Rumple.” His hand settled over her heart, and she thought of the spell he’d used to protect hers.

“So you took yours out before they could? And put it in Meliah’s necklace?” She couldn’t really believe it. He’d handed her his heart, literally, all those long years ago.”

“Seemed fitting.” He shrugged. “Little did I know that a 12-year-old fearless brat would grow into an amazing, sexy woman and make me fall madly in love with her.”

“Oh. Killian. I …” she could barely speak, emotion overwhelming her.  “I didn’t really believe you. I thought …”

“Well, I am a pirate,” he laughed “Stealing hearts is the thing I do best. Too bad the one I gave Cora wasn’t yours.  Come to think of it, the one she thinks is mine won’t work either. Yeah, I’m bad that way.”

“You tricked her?” Wendy smiled; she really did prefer the scoundrel Killian. Imagine if he was a good guy who never broke the rules. “Killian Jones. You are a bad boy. And you know what happens to bad boys?”

He flipped her on her back, rolling his body on top of hers. “They get to spend the whole night proving how much they love you?”

She didn’t answer, couldn’t. She was too busy being kissed senseless to form any coherent thought for quite a long time.

**Fairytale World -- Then**

_Running, darting between trees, scent strong, the hunt taking her …. She dreamed of fangs and fur and blood, of yellow eyes and deep growls, of the smell of fear and sweat. The moon was like a siren, singing to her soul, but her thoughts were her own, nature mixed with intelligence. They went down beneath her teeth and talons, one after the other, and she reveled into the liquid red heat that spilled out of their throats._

Her first thought was that she was warm. Usually when woke after a full moon, she was chilled to the bone, even in the depths of summer, the transformation leeching all her body heat. Cloak wrapped her body, snug and tight, but breath tickled her hair, even and slow; she knew instinctively who was curled around her, whose arms she was caught up in.  Turning her head, her chin bumped Van’s nose and he stirred, coming awake quick and easy; his eyes flared wide for a second before he remembered, then shifted to something else as he settled against her, morning erection pressing, unable to be ignored.

“Good day,” he murmured.

“Where are we?” She glanced around at the ruined walls, half-tumbled down. Colored glass still hung in some of the windows; upturned benches were pushed aside to make a sleeping area under the remaining portion of the roof.

“An old abandoned church. Holy ground.” Van explained. “I brought you here this morning after I found you.”

She started to get up or to move away, but he tugged her tighter.

“Van,” she protested. How could he be so comfortable now that he knew?

“What?” he dropped a kiss on her neck, nuzzling into her hair.

“You know.” It was hard to ignore his fingers slipping between the edges of her cloak, stroking her skin, but she had to. “I’m a monster.”

“No, you’re not. What I saw last night …. Do you remember any of it?” Hand flat on her abdomen, he spaced kisses between words, up her neck and around the edge of her ear.

“I never do, just snatches of fuzzy images. You cleaned me up.” The touches made her wiggle her hips, her body reacting. “I should be embarrassed.”

“Don’t be. You saved my life more than once yesterday and last night.” When his finger brushed the bottom of her breast, she sighed. “Didn’t want anyone to follow our trail; blood is a powerful lure to a vampire.”

“We need to find Snow and Wendy before the others do” She ended the sentence with a moan when he lightly pinched her nipple and nipped at her earlobe; pushing back, she rubbed along his erection in response. She didn’t have much experience with this – she and Peter had no more than a few stolen kisses – but she wasn’t naïve about what happened between a man and a woman. It was evident that Van was aroused, and she was quickly heading that way herself. 

“And how do we do that? If we head back into town, we’ll be easy to find. The Baron has minions who will be watching during the daylight hours.” His hand trailed down her stomach, circling her belly button and over the curve of her abdomen; heat flared and she wanted more than anything for him to touch her in that private place which was tingling.

“No, no, this isn’t how this is supposed to go.” Pushing away, she sat up, cloak secured; he propped himself up on an elbow and waited for her to continue. Damn, he was so handsome, linen shirt loose and untucked (bunched up on the side where a sliver of hip would perfectly fit her lips), chest clearly visible (she could reach it easily, run her fingers over that smooth skin), hair loose and messy from sleep (hands buried in the brown locks, holding his head steady as they kissed), and a sleepy, sexy smile on his face (lips parted for a tasting). Shaking her head to clear it, she powered on. “You’re supposed to be angry; I lied to you, didn’t tell you that I was one of the monsters you hunt, led you on. Killing me should be your first thought, rid the world of another danger.”

“Ah, my dear, you think I hadn’t already figured it out?” Fingers traced her cheekbone and thumb dragged over her lips. “I do this for a living, Red. I know the signs.”

“But …” she couldn’t think straight when he was so close, overwhelming her senses.

“You’re an amazing woman. Dealing with this, helping others.” His leaned tugged her down to him, faces closing towards each other; she let herself be pulled until their lips met, a gentle brush. “God, Red. Why would I hurt you?”

He kissed her in earnest, covering her lips with his, licking along the edges, then settling back to kiss her again, content to repeat the process over and over again until her head was filled with nothing but the feel of him, his taste, his smell, his heat. As he kissed her, his hands spanned her waist and fitted their bodies together, his rising up as hers sank down; with a deft move, he parted the cape and sat her on his lap, knees on either side of his hips. She lifted her head and groaned at the feel of him, so hard and insistent, friction against her wet heat, and the movement put her breasts within reach of his mouth.

The first pass of his tongue was like nothing she’d felt before; her nipple puckered and her breasts felt heavy and fuller, spilling over the hand that was teasing the other. Then he sucked the pink aureole in, and she arched, bringing herself more firmly against his cock, wiggling her hips, not even knowing what she was yearning for. The lavish attention to her breasts stirred her body, and any worry she had disappeared in a haze of passion.  Catching the edge of his shirt, she pulled it over his head, anxious now.

“Rose Red,” Van breathed as he rolled her onto her back, spreading open the cloak as their bed. “Hot and beautiful.” Tiny kisses down her stomach, a swipe of tongue in her belly button and strokes of fingers led to thumbs parting her lips and his mouth settling on her clit, drawing in the rosy nub.

“Oh. Oh. What …” She couldn’t imagine this, had no basis of knowledge, no experiences to compare – and the sharp jolt of rapture rippled along her spine, coiling her up tight with nowhere to go. “Van, I’ve …” she started, but stopped as his tongue darted inside of her, and her world literally went white, vision fading as the coil  exploded with the most exquisite sensation she’d ever known.

“It’s okay, love,” Van whispered, kissing her again; somehow he’d taken off his pants and she’d missed it, floating on the aftereffects of her orgasm. With one thrust, he pushed past the barrier with only a momentary twinge of discomfort;  he filled her, and he waited, giving her time to adjust until she moved first, some primal feminine urge telling her what to do. “There …. Yes … Red,” he groaned, moving slowly at first until she understood the rhythm and began to push her body to meet his. Each thrust sent echoes of that glorious climax, and she rode with them; her wolf began to awaken, not searching for release, but wanting to enjoy the act of making love, Van’s body on top of hers, his mouth forming words that her brain could no longer make sense of.  As he found his own release, he pulled out, finishing on her stomach with a groan. Inside, the wolf stretched and rolled, sated and happy as Red let her breath settle, feeling again the breeze on her naked, sweaty skin; Van’s hand pushed back her hair, searching her eyes.

“You okay?” He asked.

“Can we do that again? Right now?” She returned; he smiled indulgently and gave her a quick kiss.

“Sorry, but I need a little recovery time.” He laughed. “But later. Definitely later.”

**STORYBROOKE – now**

Regina woke early; not that she slept much anyway. Too many people haunted her dreams and took the opportunity of the darkness of unconsciousness to have their say. The sun was still beneath the horizon as she made her way into the kitchen to start the coffeemaker for her needed shot of caffeine, but the smell of a fresh brewed pot hit her nose as she entered the room.

“Special Blend? Only the best for Madame Mayor is it?” Killian sat on a counter stool, one boot swinging free above the floor, full mug in his hand, and open carton of milk sitting out. “You really should update your wards, love. They’re strong enough to keep Mummy and Rumple out, but let little peons like me slip right through.”

“What the hell do you think you’re doing here?”  She should kill him now; she’d be perfectly within her right. No one would complain about ‘accidentally’ shooting an intruder. She’d have already done it if she was still Queen.

“I’ve come to make you an offer.” He sipped the hot liquid calmly, unperturbed by how close he was to being vaporized. The damn man let nothing bother him. “You want to know what Mummy is up to? I’ll tell you everything.”

Her eyes narrowed; she didn’t believe a word he said. “Why would you do that? What do you want?”

“I peg my chances of surviving this little escapade at no more than 50%; Cora is absolutely going to double cross both me and Georgia Porgy. Maybe I just want to change those odds.”

“No. You’d be planning to get to her before she got to you. Probably already are.” Regina knew there was more to this little visit. “How do I know you know anything to start with?”

“It’s all about suffering. George wants to see Charming in pain. Cora’s got you in her sights,” he offered.

“And you want Gold dead. Yes, I’m not stupid. Tell me something I don’t know.” Regina demanded.  He seemed to think about it then he shot her a grin.

“A question for free. What would you do if someone hurt Henry, if you saw it happen?” Those blues eyes looked at her over the top of his mug, something dark and dangerous in them, something that made her take the moment to really think.

“I’d kill them. Instantly.” It wasn’t a threat. It was truth, and a cold chill ran through her. “Cora won’t make that direct an assault. She’s smarter than that.”

“Not direct, no.” He simply waited as she processed it. Cora would use Henry in a heartbeat, but how?

“Fine. Tell me your terms.” She crossed her arms and waited for whatever outrageous thing that was about to come out of his mouth.

“If I don’t come out of this, Wendy will need someone to protect her; Cora will go after her.”

That was completely unexpected; she cocked an eyebrow at him. “Wendy? Really?”

“You’re the biggest gun in town. You can keep her safe. She’s innocent in all this.”

Serious. The man was serious. Could he be in love with the woman? Or was this some sort of con he was running on all of them? “Done. I will keep her safe from Cora.”

“And Rumple.” He was deadly serious now. Yes, she could use that.

“From everyone. Is that good enough?”

He contemplated her for a few more moments, and then sat his mug down with a thump. “It’s simple really. Get to the crocodile. Make him angry. Make him come after me or George. And be sure Henry’s in the crossfire. Everyone’s happy in one fell swoop. Charming loses his grandson and you lose your son. You kill Rumple. If Cora’s lucky, either me or George … or both of us … are dead. Lots of pain and suffering everywhere.”

God, it made some sort of convoluted sense; Cora would be absolved of all blame, it would all fall on her. This was a plan worthy of her mother.

“And they’ll go after Belle to get to Gold. That’s his only weakness.” It’s what she would do; Cora had taught her well.

He shrugged. “Love makes us all weak, doesn’t it?”

“It’s not like either one of us can warn Gold. He’d never trust me, and he’ll kill you on sight.”

“Ah, but I happen to know someone who is the best friend of the little librarian. Someone who cares about her.” Killian had a Cheshire Cat smile; he thought he held all the cards at the moment.

“You’re willing to use her for this?” The man had absolutely no conscience; she shouldn’t, but she found she liked that about him. You knew what you were getting when dealing with him.

“You don’t know her well, do you?” He said as way of answer. “Wendy Darling does what Wendy Darling wants to do. Try and stop her from getting right in the middle of this.”

And that’s when she knew that Hook was telling the truth – the look on his face when he said the name of woman he loved.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A new character makes his first appearance, and Cora tips her hand. Warning: feels ahead.

STORYBROOKE – now

_It was a complicated game he was playing, running cons upon cons; sometimes even he wondered if he could keep all the threads from tangling and going wrong. The key was to tell the truth as much as possible with small lies – he’d only told Regina one falsehood when he’d invaded her kitchen, only one tiny white lie to Cora. And Wendy? He’d never lied to her, but he had omitted details, things it was better she didn’t know._

_And now it was all coming together, crashing in around him. Pacing along the dock, he found himself doubting, letting worry shadow his brain. Cora had everything ready to set in motion, a series of events that would topple all of her enemies, and the only thing he could think of what could go wrong. Wendy had insisted on warning Belle; truth was, Killian was torn about helping that bastard in any way, but an innocent woman didn’t deserve to be in the crossfire, despite who she was in love with. And, damn, that was true about Wendy; how the hell had he gotten her caught up in this? He should never have agreed to her being involved, but how the hell could he have stopped her short of tying her up for the duration? Cora was not going to stop with just her partners; she would be sure to tie up all loose ends_.

The bell jingled as she entered Mr. Gold’s pawnshop, the tension in the room causing JM to give a little yip of dismay and make her hesitate on the threshold. The woman at the counter was impeccably dressed in elegant, expensive clothes. She wore them like a queen, her spine straight and gaze challenging the intrusion; Wendy stopped just inside the doorway and a good part of her courage fled when faced with a regal Cora and a very angry Mr. Gold.

“I’m sorry,” she stammered, not having to pretend at all to be uneasy. “I was supposed to pick up something, but I can come back.” Bending, she scooped up the little dog, thinking longingly of the door behind her.

“Of course,” Mr. Gold’s voice was conciliatory, and his face changed, a smile lightening it. “I was expecting you. Come in.” He came around from behind the counter and gestured towards the door. “Our business is concluded anyway. You have my answer.” The last was harsh, directed at Cora; her eyes slid past Gold and over Wendy, taking in her sensible khakis, blue striped button-down and grey cardigan, passing judgment and finding Wendy clearly wanting.

“We are not done, Gold.” Her voice was frozen and chilly; the woman had no fear of the famous Rumplestiltskin.  As she strode towards the door, she paused in front of Wendy. “What a lovely little puppy you have there.” She reached to pet JM, but he growled, a tiny little sound that scared no one, but warmed Wendy’s heart. “Be careful, Ms. Davies. Puppies are so fragile. Don’t let him run into the woods; there are predators there that would make a quick meal of him.”

“Ever the drama queen that Cora,” Mr. Gold said after the door swung shut behind the woman. “But she does make a good point. Best be careful around her, my dear. I know Belle is quite fond of you, and I’d hate to see you caught in that witch’s snares. Here are the books Belle left for you.” He ducked under the counter and pulled up a bag with books.

“Mr. Gold, I’m afraid it’s Belle we should be worried about. I think she’s in danger.” The words spilled out of Wendy; she’d practiced it before hand, but now her mouth was running ahead of her brain.

“And did your Captain tell you that, Ms. Davies?” Gold’s eyes darkened and, for a second, Wendy could see the danger flash through them. “He’s hardly an unimpeachable source, dear.”

“Whatever is between the two of you doesn’t matter. This is about that woman, Cora, and what she plans. She’s going to hurt Belle and make sure Henry is in the path of your retaliation.” She saw the understanding dawn on his face, the way his brain chased down the repercussions; he knew exactly what the one act would lead to. Something hard shuttered over his eyes at the thought of someone attacking him through Belle.

“You’re burning your bridges with Hook, you know,” he warned her. “Just a piece of friendly advice, love; he’s not worth the pain he’s going to bring you. And he will hurt you.”

“I’m protecting my friend.” Wendy answered more confident now as she turned to go. “And I imagine he’d give me the same advice about you.”

FAIRYTALE WORLD – then

“So, spill,” Snow said. “Something happened. I can tell.”

Van and William had their heads together; the three women sat in an empty pew of the abandoned church, keeping their voices low. Thanks to William’s tracking skills, they’d found Van and Red; evidence of last night’s activities got them close, then Red had sensed them when the passed nearby. Wendy was amazed when Snow had told her about Red’s secret; the bodies of the mangled wolves and humans left little doubt as to how they met their end. It wasn’t that she’d never heard of such a thing; there were stories of a man in London who changed into a violent monster at night and a legend in France about a wolf that walked as a man. But, really, who was she to judge anyone else? She was in love with a pirate, had left her brothers on an enchanted island, and was running right into trouble with only a magic necklace for protection.

“It’s just, well, I …” Red turned as rosy cheeked as her name and shot little glances over at the brown-haired man, who returned them when he thought no one was looking. Wendy had to smile at the obvious answer to the woman’s change in mood; she knew exactly how that afterglow felt, and she exchanged a quick look of understanding with Snow. “It’s the worst possible time. And I don’t know what it means and where it’s going.”

“You never do,” Wendy offered; Red’s worried eyes turned to her. “Love just happens when it happens. Trust me on that one.”

“Question is, what do we do now? We have the necklace but we don’t know how it works. The longer we wait, the more likely those kids aren’t alive anymore.” Snow shook her head, frustrated at their situation.

 “There’s no way the five of us can’t take the Baron on by ourselves.” William stood and moved their way.

“A frontal assault will never work, but maybe one of us can go in through the escape door.” Red suggested. “I know the way and have been both upstairs and in the dungeons. I can find the kids and get them back out.”

Van caught her hand with his. “We go in during the day, the two of us. We’ll need a diversion to draw the drones and others away from the backside of the ridge. We go in first thing in the morning, when the wolves have just changed back and the vampires go to ground. That will give us time to get as far away as we can.”

“And the Baron? We just leave him to do more damage?” Snow asked.

“We let the Queen take care of him; she has enough men for a frontal assault. We take the necklace to her to figure out while you get the children to safety.” William suggested.

“No.” Wendy and Snow all spoke at the same time.

“We can’t trust Regina,” Snow asserted. “She’s just as likely to become his ally, or at least pretend to be to get his power.”

“The necklace stays with me and gets returned when we’re done.” Wendy stood, voice firm. Even Van looked at her with a renewed respect. “The Queen will never get her hands on it. Children first; we come back for the medallion, and then the necklace goes to its owner. No negotiation.”

“Wendy,” Van began, but Snow cut him short.

“Agreed.” She nodded to the other woman. “We’ll make sure it’s returned to him.”

“Why do I have the feeling I’ve missed something here?” Van complained; Red squeezed his hand and he shrugged. “Fine. I guess. I just don’t know when I lost control of this whole escapade.”

“The minute you let these three talk you into it,” William said with an amused smile.

STORYBROOKE – now

Ruby shivered, huddling into her coat; the wind had whipped up as a new cold front rolled in from Canada.  The walk to the library wasn’t very far, but she was wishing she’d picked up her hat and scarf at the diner before she’d left. Grey clouds, heavy with the promise of snow, blotted out the rays of the sun as they scuttled across the sky. Checking for cars, she crossed the street and reached for the handle of the door, ready for the warmth of the friendly room beyond.

Chairs were overturned, bookshelves leaning drunkenly on their sides, books scattered in haphazard piles. The carefully constructed Reading Cave was smashed, cardboard thrown around like little piles of debris washed up on the shore after a wreck. The door to the back room hung askew, half off its hinges; a single light gleamed there, showing even more destruction.  Her first impulse was to dart into the chaos and look for Belle, but she hesitated, taking time to let her senses spread out. There was a scent, one she almost recognized but couldn’t quit grasp. Belle too had been here, recently, but there was no one now.

“What the hell happened here?”

She’d known he was coming up behind her, had heard the tapping of his cane and smelled the of powerful magic. Turning, she saw his face flash from surprise to concern to anger.

“The doors were open; she’s not here. Someone else was, but I don’t know who.”

Gold strode in, checking behind the smashed counter and quickly making a circuit of the back room. “I know who. They’ll pay for this.” He started to leave, but Ruby ran after him.

“We need to get Charming and Emma and find her. She’s in real trouble, I can sense it.” For a man with a limp, Gold could move quickly when he needed to; she trotted to keep up.

“There’s nothing they can do about this. I’ll handle it.” His voice strained with barely control rage. “Everyone needs to just keep out of the way.”

A small sound caught her attention, a little whine, as they passed by the gazebo in the park; tiny brown and white, the puppy darted out from under the white latticework and barked at her, insistent.

“That’s Chip. Belle would never leave him alone like this … Cora. She has Belle, doesn’t she?” Ruby asked, cuddling the pup close; the poor thing was shaking from the cold.

“You know far more than you show, don’t you?” Gold’s eyebrow arched, and he really looked at Ruby. “Yes, she does indeed, and we need to find her quickly.”

“I can locate her.” Ruby tousled Chip’s ears, holding him up to her. “Where’s Belle, Chip? Can you find her?” The pup sneezed, shook its head, and wiggled to be put down.

“You don’t seriously expect that to work?” Gold was skeptical, but the little dog immediately ran for the corner and took the turn to the Marina. He bounded out of sight and then came back, barking at them both.

“I most certainly do.” Ruby took off after the little dog, and, in a moment, Gold followed.

FAIRYTALE WORLD – then

“You don’t want to put it on, do you?” Red came quietly up behind Wendy. She’d been hesitating, arguing with herself about what to do. Logically, it made perfect sense. Wearing the necklace would offer some sort of protection; she should give it to Red since she was going to be the one going into the chateau.  But something was stopping her; she’d held it in her hands, looking at the reflection of the setting sun in the stones.

“The last woman who wore it died … was killed. It feels … wrong … to put it on.” She held it out to Red, the metal glittering in the last rays.  “Really, you should have it.”

“I find it best to listen to your heart where magic is concerned.” Red shook her head. “Keep it there until you need to use it.”

“Actually, I wouldn’t mind having a look at that.” They both started, turning as men emerged from the trees to grab their arms and hold them still. Lucy glided out, keeping to the shadows; she had one of the men take it from Wendy’s hands. “A dead woman’s necklace? Interesting.”

“It’s cursed, of course.” Red smoothly answered the woman, and Wendy knew what she was doing, tempting the vampire to do something rash. Well, it was one way to find out what would happen. “Jealousy and rage overtakes those who wear it. I wouldn’t put it on if I were you.”

“Well, you are not me. I’m immortal now.” She laughed, the merciless sound at odds with her blonde ringlets and lovely pink satin dress. “I can do what I want.”

“Lucy?” Van asked, his voice uncertain; she turned to face him, and he stared for a moment. “You’re not Lucy.”

“No, alas, I am not. He picked me because I resembled her. I’m not complaining, far from it; I was very happy to trade in my dull family for this.” She waved at herself, ignoring the crossbow he held at the ready. “Oh, don’t be silly. The men will kill them before you can release the string. Put that down.”

He lowered the point to the ground, but didn’t let go. “Does he know you’re here? He doesn’t like disobedience.”

“Oh, posh. He’ll be glad to see that I captured all of you for him. That will show Quincy! The man thinks he’s so much better than me just because he came from your world.” Lifting the necklace, she examined it, delight in her eyes, and then she slid it around her neck, reaching behind her to clasp it securely. “I know it clashes with the dress, but I do look good in red, don’t you think?”

Nothing happened for a few breaths; Wendy glanced at Red, and Van kept his eyes trained on the vampire. The first sign was a slight hint of smoke, the smell of a wood fire, a tendril of black drifting up from her. As she gasped, her hands flew up to remove it, but her fingers couldn’t find purchase on the metal.

“What is this?” She screeched, yanking to take it off. The stones began to sink into her neck, burning their way down through her dead flesh. “Help me! Get this off!”

The man holding Red started forward; she lashed out at him, fueled by the full moon. A bolt flew above Wendy’s head, and the man slumped back, letting her go; drawing as quick as he could, Van sent a second bolt at the third man charging him. All through the scuffle, the vampire kept screaming; Wendy could see the terror in the woman’s eyes as living fire consumed her until nothing was left but a pile of grey, the necklace curled among the steaming ash. Red had knocked out her man, and Van closed on the last one; Wendy dropped to her knees, saw the velvet on the ground and used it to reach for the hot stones. Wrapping her hand in her cloak, she eased the necklace back into the bag.

“Why thank you, dear.” The voice was strangely familiar and comforting, like an old family friend. “That is so helpful. Just hold on to that for me, will you? I imagine I’m going to have to do something with it later.” He was tall and slim, wavy light brown hair curling around the nape of his neck, sexy little goatee surrounding lips that were smiling at her. Brown leather vest and pants, simple linen shirt that spoke of money but not outrageous taste. Blue eyes sparkled with mirth as he reached out a hand to help her up, fingers curling around her elbow.

“You’re him.” She stepped back, tucking the bag into the pocket of her cloak, his touch leaving a lingering tingle.  He was nothing at all like she expected.

“Indeed, I am.” He glanced down at the macabre pile at his feet. “Alas, not the brightest of women, I’m afraid. I did warn her but she was jealous of my interest in the three beauties traveling with my old friend.”

“She’s dead.” Red spoke. “And you don’t care? You _are_ a monster.”

“Ah, yes, I see Helsing has filled your head with terrible stories of me.” Hands held out, he shrugged easily, standing his ground as she stepped forward. “She made her choices. Do I feel badly at her death? Aye, as I do with anyone I know.”

“You don’t feel at all.” Van held his crossbow ready, his body fairly vibrating with rage. “You picked her because she looked like Lucy, and you used her like you always do.”

He nodded amiably at Van, as if the man wasn’t aiming a weapon at his heart. “Still angry, I see. Can you not forgive Lucy for choosing me? After all, I have forgiven you for killing her, brother.” He turned back to Red and Wendy, gave a little bow. “I’m afraid Abraham has forgotten his manners. Let me introduce myself; I am Vladimir Draco, at your service. But you can call me Vlad.” 

STORYBROOKE – Now

The office walls were closing in on him; he’d never been a patient man, and waiting was the last thing he wanted to be doing. She should have been here already, at least thirty minutes ago, but it wasn’t completely unusual for her to get caught at school, talking to someone one or staying with a student until their parent showed up. It’s just that today she was going by Gold’s store to warn him about Belle, and she’d been nervous about it; he couldn’t imagine she’d have wasted time leaving work to pick up JM for his walk. Tapping his fingers on the desk, he glanced at the clock one more time.

A scratching sound, faint, followed by a whimper. He stilled his hand and listened intently. There it was again, from the door. Walking quietly, he crossed the office and eased it open. The little pup looked miserable, shaking and whining; when he reached down to pick him up, the dog evaded his hand and scampered down the stairs towards the dock.

“What are you doing here?” He hooked JM’s collar and pulled the squirming animal back. “You’re supposed to be with …” And he knew. The way he knew the first time he saw Rumplestiltskin, when Cora approached him, when he met Regina. The way he knew when he saw Wendy scrambling up that bank, kissed her for the first time, watched her eyes close as she came apart for him.  He knew evil and he knew Wendy. Every fiber of his being screamed to act, to find her, to burn anyone who got in his way – he just didn’t know where. The damn dog kept struggling, almost choking himself, so Killian let him go; dashing away, the dog got to the bottom of the steps and started barking at him, running a few feet before returning and barking again.  Wendy elicited that kind of love, he knew, so overwhelming that even the pup wanted to help her. Slamming the door shut behind him, he followed the ball of fur, his long legs eating up the ground as four little ones tried to keep up. As soon as they took a turn towards the commercial docks, he knew where they were headed, the symmetry too much for Cora to ignore. He slowed only to take out the little phone Wendy had given him – she’d set up the message so all he had to do was remember two buttons. The dog didn’t even balk at the gang plank, fearlessly running right up onto the deck of the ship; the steps to the quarterdeck were more difficult, but JM took the first two tumbles backwards and got right back up. Killian climbed them two at a time, steeling himself for what he would see.

“Ah, you’re early!” Cora uncrossed her legs and stood up as he came on deck; her gaze fell on the dog. “Well, well, isn’t that cute. Dogs don’t care who they’re loyal to, do they? Not that you’d know anything about loyalty, being the lying pirate you are.”

“I see you’ve pushed up your time table and made some changes, Cora dear.” Wendy stood by the railing, hands tied behind her back, silhouetted against the grey bank of clouds blowing in from the ocean. Still in her school clothes, her wide eyes were scared, but he couldn’t risk any hint of weakness or show of concern. He leaned against the wheel, casting a casual pose, watching as Wendy dropped to her knees and JM climbed into her lap. “She wasn’t part of the plan, if I remember correctly.”

“Neither was going to Regina to warn her.” Good god, but Cora could sound like she was having high tea while she was killing someone. “I decided I needed a little leverage to keep you in line. Your little lover’s heart ought to do the trick.”

He saw the two boxes beside her within easy reach. She was playing her trump cards; he’d wanted to force her hand, but he’d hoped to push her towards Rumplestiltskin, not Wendy. “Come now, you told me to gain your daughter’s confidence. Why are you upset that I’m doing exactly that?”

“Don’t spew that bullshit at me, Hook.” Like a knife, her voice went from pleasant to razor sharp. “You think you can have your revenge and your little whore too. I know how you think. We’ll, let me assure you, you can’t.” Flipping open a lid, she took the beating heart out of one of the boxes and held it in her hand. “Shall I show you want happens to someone who tries to cross me?”

 “Go ahead.” He shrugged, indifferent. That threw her off for a second, surprised at his reaction; it was true after all, since he knew neither held Wendy’s heart.

“Fine.” She made the one word a weapon as she squeezed, eyes like a hawk, watching him, increasing the pressure. “This is not your heart!” She shrieked and she crumbled it to dust in her hand, letting the pieces rain down on the deck.

“You have to have a heart for that to work.” He gave her his best cocky grin; she flushed with anger, ripping open the second box to grab the contents.

“And this isn’t our little Wendy’s either, I wager.” She smashed that one quickly, throwing the remains at him. “You think you’re clever, but you have only assured both of your deaths. Don’t worry; I’ll make sure Rumplestiltskin gets to dance over your corpse when I’m done.” With a flick of her hand, Wendy was pulled up, as if on strings, and the heavy anchor chain wrapped around her ankles, slithering along her skin, constricting around her waist and circling her neck.

“No!” he tried to jerk into action, just steps away from her, but he found he couldn’t move, held fast by some dark magic. “If you hurt her, I will do more than kill you; I’ll tear ever bit of magic from you and leave you a broken shell, babbling and incoherent.”

“Oh my. I do believe my toy thinks he is in love.” She stepped close enough to run her hand down the side of his face, a caress of ownership as he struggled to break her spell. “But you don’t have a heart, my dear captain …. So this won’t hurt you at all.” A dismissive wave of her hand, and the chain rolled with a clatter, dragging Wendy over the railing and down into the water, her scream cut short as she was pulled below the surface.

And all he could do was watch.

 

 


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The final showdowns commence. Cora plays her cards, Vlad makes an offer, and a puppy saves the day.

STORYBROOKE -- now

It happened in a second; Wendy’s body was no longer under her control, jumping up from where she sat. Cold chain wrapped around her ankles, slithering along her skin; she opened her mouth to scream but the iron constricted around her waist, circling her neck, making it impossible to draw in a deep breath.

“No!” She heard Killian’s shout, saw the fear in his eyes, but then he froze, struggling against invisible bonds. “If you hurt her, I will do more than kill you; I’ll tear ever bit of magic from you and leave you a broken shell, babbling and incoherent.”

“Oh, my. I do believe my toy thinks he is in love.” Cora was taunting him, running her hand down the side of his face; Wendy tried with all her might, but couldn’t get any wiggle room inside her bonds.  “But you don’t have a heart, my dear captain …. So this won’t hurt you at all.”

Her feet were yanked out from under her; she could see JM jumping towards her, heard his bark as she toppled backwards. For a second she was falling, the railing floating away from her; Killian was shouting her name. And then she hit the water, hard, taking the brunt of the stinging pain on her legs and back before the surface closed over her and she sank down, murky darkness of the sea obscuring her view of the ship as the chain pulled her down.

She held out until her lungs were burning and her brain was screaming and she couldn’t stand it another second; she opened her mouth, expecting a salty mouthful of seawater, but air flowed in, sweet fresh air as if she was standing on the deck. Blinking to clear her eyes, she stopped struggling, trying to slow her panicked heart. As she stilled, she felt give in the loops, the pressure easing around her throat and waist. She took time to think, to let the fear fade away. Magic was at work here; Cora obviously hadn’t wanted her immediately dead.

A movement caught her eyes and she turned her head; floating not far from her, hands tied and feet weighted, was a terrified Belle. She too was awake and breathing, but shaking with the cold. Glancing up at the filtered grey light of the day, Wendy knew that there was more to worry about than drowning … too long in icy waters of the Atlantic could be just as deadly.

FAIRYTALE WORLD – then

Wendy watched as Van drew Red to him, putting his arm around her waist, spreading a comforting hand at her back, a lover’s touch. The sitting room wasn’t all that large, and it was impossible not to overhear their conversation. Since they’d met Dracula, or Vlad, or whatever he was called, he’d brought them here and excused himself, leaving them with food and drink and their own fears. Worry was the biggest problem; Wendy kept turning the velvet bag of Meliah’s necklace over and over in her hand, replaying the hideous death of the woman vampire in her mind’s eye. And yet, she was found herself almost opening the bag any number of times, thinking of the feel of stones against her skin. Killian had assured her the necklace couldn’t hurt her, but there was something important she was missing, she was sure of it.

“He called you brother.” Red’s voice pleaded for understanding. “What did he mean?”

“He’s over 300 years old, an ancestor of mine.” The pain of that connection made Van’s voice heavy with self-loathing. “That’s why he came to England, where I was. To find his family.”

“It’s not your fault.” Red pushed back Van’s hair, soothing her fingers down the side of his face.

“Yes, yes it is. I’m the reason he was there. Why he’s here.” Van’s eyes clouded with his internal struggle. “I’m why he even met Lucy … Quincey, Arthur and I were friends, all in competition for Lucy’s affections. She picked Quincey, but then she saw Vlad and she would have no one else. It’s on me. All of it.”

“Sounds like she made her own choices.” Hand curled around his chin and lifted his face to hers. “Personally, I can’t imagine picking anyone over you. But then I’m a little biased, I think.”

Wendy turned her eyes away as their lips brushed, caught between happiness for her friend and a pang of longing that almost brought her tears. Why, she wondered, did love happen during the worst moments, the wrong places, the hardest of times? Why did it draw together people who should never work, who should be on opposite sides, who carried shadows and secrets too heavy to bear? All she could see at the moment was the tragedy in the making. Tightening her fist around the pouch, she had a sudden flash of intuition, a second to know that this was not going to end well.

“Forgive me for leaving you to your own devices,” Vlad said as he entered the room, Quincey Morris just behind him. “There is always so much to take care of after I’ve been gone.”

“Sorry you’re such a busy bastard,” Van said angrily. “You’re still the same monster, polished manners or not, no matter if this is a different world.”

“And what would bring you charging after me, Abraham? I left your world, as you wanted. Left and took my kind with me.” Vlad walked through the ornate room, pausing to pour himself a drink from the cut crystal decanter on the sideboard. “Aside from rolling over and dying, what more can I do to make you leave me alone?”

“You think I can stand by and watch you slaughter children anywhere?” Van demanded.

“Children?” Vlad looked over his shoulder at Quincey, who gave a noncommittal shrug of his elegantly clad shoulders.

“The wolves were restless,” the other man said. “And she was a really piece of work. Quit letting your love for a dead bitch of a woman make your choices for you.”

Quincey’s feet left the ground as Vlad’s clawed hand sunk deep into his throat; Vlad held him aloft, his face mere inches from Quincey’s – and Wendy had never even seen the vampire move. Handsome face calm, voice smooth and easy, Vlad’s words chilled Wendy to the bone. “I gave you express instructions. Only those who were willing or could fight back. No children. Do not make me regret giving you the second life.”

“You cut my life short, my _real_ life, not this evil shadow,” Quincey spat out, fangs showing.

Vlad let the other vampire go, brushed off his suit jacket, and tugged his brocade vest back into place. “Ladies, forgive me for the brutality. Unfortunately, some people make decisions that they later regret. I apologize for the unpleasantness.”

Quincey slunk back to the end of the room, eyes hard with hate, look jumping between Van and Vlad.

“Quincey, I …” Van started, but the vampire cut him off.

“You started this with your obsession, dragging Lucy and me into it. If she’d never met him, we’d be happily married on the estate, some kids …” Quincey broke off with a sob that turned to a menacing growl. “You just couldn’t let her go, could you?”

“Release the children now, Quincey. Take them … unharmed … to Abraham’s friends who will be looking for them. I’ll arrange restitution for the others.” Vlad waved him off; the other vampire didn’t want to go, but he did, back stiff with rage.

“Stop this.” Van put his body between Vlad and the two women; Wendy could see the resemblance now, distant perhaps, generations apart, but the two men were family. “Let them go, Vlad. Give Wendy the medallion, and you and I can finish this. Like we’re supposed to. Just the two of us.”

“No,” Red stepped forward and put her hand on his arm. “We get the medallion and then we all go. Together.”

Vlad looked at Red, a sad smile on his face. “Listen to the lovely woman, Van. Go have a life with her. In London or here, doesn’t matter.”

“And let you keep killing others? Turning them into twisted versions of themselves like Quincey?” Van’s voice was harsh, but his hand covered Red’s protectively.

“I will keep living, or whatever this is I do, yes.” Vlad lifted a small silver chain from around his neck; a small circle studded with small sapphire was attached. “Here. Take this then. I’ve no desire to return. Just give me that lovely little necklace you have, and we’ll call it even.”

“Not going to happen.” Even as Van was arguing, Wendy’s left hand closed around the velvet bag, worrying the stones with her fingertips.

“I believe the necklace belongs to the young lady, and it’s her decision.” Vlad turned his attention to her. The urge overcame her, and she had it halfway out before she even realized she was tugging on it. The string tangled around her thumb, opening the neck; one of the stones slipped out and her ring finger brushed the surface. A shock jolted up her arm, clearing her head from the compulsion; dipping in the bag she pulled the strand out, letting the links fall through her fingers, center stone filling her palm with warmth and her nose with a hint of the sea. She held it out, the links catching the flickering of the candles.

“Stop trying to control me.” She held her ground, angry at the vampire’s attempt to manipulate her.

“Well, you can’t blame me for trying, my dear. That’s a powerful item, and I can’t exactly let it fall into the hands of someone like the erstwhile Queen Regina now, can I?” Vlad offered her a smile. “I really will give you the medallion to get home. You have my word.”

“And what about me?” Quincey spoke from the doorway; he strode across the carpet to where they stood. “Am I to be trapped here? I want to go home, Vlad. At least there, this existence will be tolerable.”

As the other vampire’s hand reached for the shining silver, Vlad caught Van’s hand and coiled the chain into his palm, closing Van’s fingers over the stone studded circle. “You made your choice, Quincey. You are not ready to be on your own.”

“If you won’t help me, I’ll do it myself.” With a snarl, the man leaped; Van had tensed, readied himself, but Quincey aimed instead for Red, his hand wrapping mercilessly around her wrist, yanking her hood back and catching a handful of hair, bending her head to expose her white neck. “Let’s see what happens when Van’s little wolf turns, shall we?”

Van reached for Red just as Vlad’s long fingers sank into Quincey’s shoulder. Eyes changing, Red pushed the vampire off; freed, she bumped into a chair and sat down heavily as her knees gave way. Breaking the other men’s hold, Quincey lunged at Wendy with impossible speed, fangs distended, eyes red and terrifying, his claw-like hand trapping her elbow. She cried out as a pain lanced into her palm, a sharp stab of heat racing past her wrist, up to her elbow, burning its way to her shoulder. Van’s arms circled the vampire’s chest, straining to pull him back, keeping Quincey from leaning in for the kill; the silver chain dangled from Van’s fist, glinting in the candlelight.

“Touch him with it,” Van was saying, but his voice seemed distant, blocked by the feeling that was consuming her. Heart raced, pounding against her ribcage, her breath came in gasps, and she almost let go of the scalding stones that felt like they were burning their way into her soul. The room grew hazy; she knew Red was pulling herself back up to help. She could see death in Quincey’s eyes, his madness evident. She clearly saw Vlad’s face behind them, something akin to sympathy passing across it as Van pushed Quincey’s arm down until skin touched the coral stones in Wendy’s hand. That tiniest brush felt like an arrow of agony slicing right into her chest as the necklace blazed hot, red light pouring over and out of her clinched fingers. With a heart-rending series of cracks, the stones imploded, blowing Quincey and Van off of her, sending Wendy tumbling into the sideboard; her head connected with edge of the sturdy piece of furniture, and she dropped into unconsciousness, the blackness chasing away the throbbing waves of pain.

STORYBROOKE – now

Killian called Wendy’s name, useless and trapped by Cora’s spell, and all the bitch did was laugh at him, close her fist and tighten her magical hold on his body. Ruthlessly, he shoved the image of Wendy, submerged, her eyes gone lifeless, out of his head, away from his consciousness. There was little-to-no time, but panic wouldn’t help. He had to find a way to save her.

“Well, my dear, I see you are busy, so I won’t keep you. Just tell me where Belle is, and I’ll let you get back to tormenting the captain,” Mr. Gold said as he took the last step up from the main deck. The hate-filled look directed at Killian told him just how much help he could expect from Rumplestiltskin … exactly nothing. But maybe he could hope for indifference, that Gold wouldn’t side with Cora against him.

“Oh, good timing! It seems your old friend here has taken your lovely little librarian captive. He came to me with the most outlandish scheme to get revenge, and I just had to stop him. For your sake, dear Rumple.” Cora smiled like a shark; everyone knew she was lying, but it didn’t matter. Bad blood was bad blood, and Wendy was going to pay the price.  He saw the glint in her eye, knew what she anticipated – a violent outburst from him, angry and filled with hate, words she could use to her advantage. Closing his eyes, he took a breath. This moment may have been coming for a long time, but he’d made his decision already; he would always choose Wendy. Always.

“Please.” He looked directly at Gold, the man who had taken something precious from him, a man he would gladly kill. “Cora just dragged Wendy overboard. There’s time to save her before she drowns. Help her.”

Gold was surprised, arching one eyebrow at Killian’s words. “Indeed?”

“Oh, come now, Captain, such an obvious play of sympathy?  You’d never ask the man who killed your beloved Meliah for help any more than you’d fall in love again,” Cora scoffed, distain coloring her voice; Killian had thrown off her plans. “Your darling teacher isn’t even here.”

The bark was loud and insistent; JM barreled into Killian’s legs, tiny front paws on his calf as the dog whined. The puppy dropped down, ran to the railing, barked, and ran back, little legs scrambling across the wooden planks.

“Bring her up, Cora.” Gold’s voice was as cold as a glacier and twice as sharp as a razor’s edge. “Then tell me where Belle is. Now.”

“You are no fun anymore, Rumple. Love only makes you weak. Seems I’m the only with the strength to do what needs to be done,” Cora pouted. She drew a handful of small stones from her pocket and flung them at Gold, the magic flowing outward; he barely had time to raise a hand in warding before the missiles surround him, trapping him in a bubble, frozen just like Killian. Taking the time to make a leisurely circle around both men, she stopped between them. “Took me forever to find those. Damn vampire was most uncooperative. See, Regina, how easy it is to control men?”

“Well, it’s nice to see you too, mother.” Hands on her hips, eyes flashing, Regina stared at the woman who’d raised her. “I think you’ve done enough damage for the day, don’t you? Let them all go.”

“Darling, whatever for? Don’t tell me you still believe in the power love after all this time?” Cora looked closely at her daughter. “Oh, you do! Silly girl. Tell you what, wave your little hand and let our friend the pirate go. I bet you the first thing he’ll do is take care of Rumplestiltskin for us, drowned lover be damned.”

“Just because you’re a cold bitch doesn’t mean everyone is,” Regina retorted.

Killian felt the release, muscles unclenching, and he dropped to his knees before he could stop himself. Pushing up, he saw Cora reaching him a wicked looking dagger. “Go ahead,” she said. “This will be the only chance you ever have. All his protection is gone. You’re little girlfriend is already gone. Why waste the perfect opportunity?”

“Thanks.” He grabbed the hilt and was over the side in one quick economy of motion, leaving a gaping Cora and a smiling Regina behind on the deck without a second thought. Diving down and slicing through the surface of the water, he followed the chain to Wendy’s dark hair; his hands tilted her face up to his, expecting to see glassy eyes, but she blinked and smiled at him instead, somehow alive. There was no time to waste, not with Cora still above; he unwrapped the chain, untangling it from her neck and waist until Wendy could kick free of the last of it. Turning to let the buoyance of the water push them back to the surface, Wendy’s hand in his, she took the knife and tugged him to the side, silently arguing with him, shaking her head so the floating tendrils of hair seemed to curve and whip around her. Then he saw Belle, tinges of blue on her skin, tied just beyond.  Wendy used the sharp-edge blade to cut the weights free, and Belle floated upward. Lungs starting to burn, Killian caught the edge of Belle’s sleeve, Wendy taking the other, and they all three swam towards the light above. Breaking the surface, Killian dragged in a breath, dashing the water from his eyes.

“Here,” Ruby said from the small rowboat she’d commandeered from the dock, her hands reaching out to help pull Belle in. “Let’s get everyone in before you freeze to death.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not every story has a happy ending ... but for Wendy, at least, it seems this is her time to be on the receiving end of something good.

STORYBROOKE -- NOW

“Really, I’m fine,” Wendy objected as the blood pressure cuff went off again. When they’d brought Belle into the emergency room, Dr. Whale had insisted Wendy be checked out as well. The cold waters of the Atlantic were nothing to be trifled with, he’d said. They’d taken her blood, done a number of tests, and the left her sitting in the bed beside Belle’s.

The nurse merely nodded. “Yes, dear, but the doctor wants you to stay for a bit longer. He’ll be right back.”

The door opened and Killian came in; despite taking a dive into the ocean himself, he’d avoided the ministrations of the nurses. In his hands, he held a wiggling puppy while another tucked in his pocket was trying to escape.  “There’s someone here eager to see you.” He handed JM over to Wendy then put Chip on the other bed within Belle’s reach. “They were hanging around the docks. Ruby rounded them up.”

Warm little body perched on her lap, paws on her chest as he tried to climb up to lick her face. “My little hero,” Wendy cooed, tousling the pup’s head. “Both of them were so brave.”

“Indeed, my dear. Without the dogs, we’d have never found you in time.” Mr. Gold stepped inside the door, a glare for Killian before he turned a softer look towards Belle. “You are going to be alright, the doctor assures me.”

“Just cold, nothing more,” she smiled up at him.

The tension between the men was palpable; Wendy could feel it, and JM whined in her arms, picking up on the undercurrents in the room. “Yes, it was a good thing Killian got to us when he did. I don’t know how long Cora’s breathing spell would have lasted.” Wendy knew that she was goading Mr. Gold, but, damn it, Killian had saved Belle’s life and given up a chance at revenge. That had to count for something.

“I’m still confused about why she didn’t want us to drown,” Belle said with a shiver. “She’s evil enough to do it.”

“Yes, well, Cora likes to lay plans within plans, so she needed you alive for a bit. The water was just a hiding place,” Killian said.

“You would know, of course,” Gold purred in his coldest voice. “Considering you were her partner in this whole scheme. You and George. Who, conveniently, has disappeared.”

“I’m afraid you’re wrong about that. Killian was working with me.” Regina, dressed in one of her black power suits with a red scarf, pushed the door open.

“Is Henry alright?” Wendy asked; she’d been worried about the boy.

“David took him riding. He missed all the excitement, plus skipped school for a day.” Regina smiled. “I don’t imagine his teacher will be upset given the situation.”

“Too bad your mother got away, Regina. And just how did that happen?” Gold asked.

Regina ignored the jab. “I’m just glad no one was hurt. I came as soon as I got your message, Killian.”

Gold arched an eyebrow, but Belle laid her hand on his. “He saved my life, Rumple and he didn’t have to.”

“I know, my dear, I know.” He bent and brushed a light kiss on her cheek. “Turns out the pirate has a heart after all.”

“Everyone does. Love is always more powerful than hate. Cora’s magic maybe strong, but we have each other,” Belle looked lovingly at him.

“Well, the whole town is here,” Dr. Whale joked. “I’m going to throw you all out. Both of these lovely ladies are cleared to leave. We’ll have more test results later, but for now, lots of sleep, drink plenty of fluids, and take it easy. Order take-out and let these men take care of you. If anything else comes up, I’ll contact you.”

Wendy jumped off the bed, eager to be gone; Regina put her arm around Wendy and drew her out of the room ahead the others. “Best be careful, dear. My mother never forgets a slight; you’re on her radar now. You and your pirate.”

“I know you don’t trust him,” Wendy said.

“Whatever he may be, I do think he actually loves you. He has no heart of course, but who am I to deny what’s evident?” Regina looked back; Killian and Gold were still staring at each other. “And you’ve an enemy there. Make no mistake.”

“This isn’t over, Hook.” Gold curled his hand under Belle’s elbow as he helped her out the door. “Nothing has changed.”

“Agreed.” Killian inclined his head, waiting for Gold to precede him. “Take care of Belle, Gold. Wendy’s friends are important to me.”

Before Gold could reply, Wendy stepped between them. “Boys. Enough for today. I’m tired, and I want a big bowl of hot & spicy noodles, my pajamas, and a sappy romance on TV. Save the manly posturing for later, if you please.”

Belle hid her smile behind her hand, but Regina laughed out loud. “Oh, Wendy Darling. I do think you have more balls than most men I know.”

* * *

 

“I just wanted to make sure you were okay.” Ruby perched on the end of the bed where Wendy was cozily ensconced in her warm blankets. Killian had left to get dinner when Ruby had shown up. “Gave me a hell of a scare out there. All of you.”

“Scared me too,” Wendy admitted.  “When I hit that water, before I knew that I could breathe, all I could think about was Killian up there with Cora, and how he was going to go crazy. God, Red, I realized that he was the only important thing. Nothing else matters. And I thought I’d lost him. Again.”

A sad smile played on Ruby’s lips as she caught Wendy’s hand with hers. “I know. I really do.”

And Wendy understood that, had been there when Ruby lost Van, when the necklace had shattered …

“Oh God!” Wendy sat up straight. “I overheard Killian tell Regina about the spell Cora used to hold Mr. Gold. She threw some sort of dust at him and said something about a vampire being uncooperative. You don’t think that was the necklace, do you? That Vlad kept the bits?”

“I wouldn’t put it past him. If it was still magical, he’d have hung on to it.” Ruby agreed.

“But …” Wendy was suddenly frantic, thinking of the dust and stone fragments in the hands of someone like Cora or Mr. Gold. She pushed her way out of the bed, throwing back the covers, intent on finding the answer; she couldn’t explain to Ruby about Killian putting his heart in the necklace for safekeeping. “I have to find it. It’s important.”

“What’s so important? The doctor said you’re supposed to rest.” Killian sat the take-out bag on the small counter; Ruby stood, ready to leave this conversation to the two of them.

“I’ll check on you tomorrow. Take it easy tonight, and let that handsome scoundrel take care of you, got it?” Ruby ordered.

“Don’t worry about me. Check on Belle too, and make sure Gold is treating her right?” Wendy asked, still anxious.

“You bet.” Ruby smiled as she left.

“Now, what has you so worried that you’re climbing out of bed? I believe we had plans for tonight.” Killian wiggled his eyebrows as he pushed her back down, swinging her legs up and covering them with the blankets.

“The dust Gold used for the spell. Cora said she got it from a vampire. It’s what’s left of Meliah’s necklace; it shattered when Quincy touched it.” The words came out in a rush, tumbled over each other as she tried to make sense. “Your heart, Killian. Cora had your heart the whole time. We have to get it back.”

He was clearly surprised, but, unexpectedly, he stayed calm, leaning over to capture her mouth in a loving kiss. “Don’t worry, love. I know exactly where my heart is. I keep telling you but you don’t believe me.” He drew an X on her chest, over her heart. “You’ve had it all along.”

“Me? How can I …” And then it all made sense. The pain as the necklace exploded, the way it traveled up her arm to her chest. He’d never lied to her; his heart had always belonged to her. “Killian?” she asked, wonder in her eyes.

“Ah, my fearless Wendy. Who better to protect it than you?”

FAIRYTALE WORLD – THEN

“Really, I’m fine,” Wendy insisted, pushing aside Snow’s hands. Her head spun but she was alive; at least she thought she was. As her memories came crashing back, her chest ached and she raised her hand; angry red patches marred the skin, but her fingers flexed easily.

“You hit your head pretty hard,” Red said from the other side; the two women helped her sit up. She was in a room, feather bed beneath her, sunlight streaming through the windows. “We were worried about you.”

“The necklace?” That was her primary concern; she remembered vividly how it shattered.

“I’m sorry, it’s gone. As far as we can tell, when Quincey touched it, the power was released. It interacted with the medallion, like pouring oil on a fire.” Snow provided the explanation; Wendy noticed that Red fell silent, a sadness haunting her face.

“What else?” Wendy had to know; she could tell something terrible had happened.

“When Quincey started to … melt … the medallion must have activated. He and Van shifted between worlds. They’re gone,” Snow said gently. “And they took the medallion with them.”                                                                                                     

Her hand flew to Red’s, the import of those words sinking in. “Oh, Red, I’m so sorry.”

“Wendy, this means you can’t go home” Red said in response. “I’m sorry too.”

“We’ll find another way. Van’s the type of man who will move heaven and earth to get back to you.” She was reeling but, somehow, she wasn’t as upset as she thought she should be. Life in London wasn’t nearly as appealing as the freedom she’d experienced; she could make her own future here free from the restrictions of being a lady. “Besides, it might not be so bad to stay. I have friends and the chance to do something good.”

“I could help you with that,” Snow said. “There are at least twelve orphans downstairs and more from the Ogre Wars. I know Regina’s in control right now but there are places we could set up a school for them, a place where …” 

“I’d love to.” Wendy felt her soul settle. This was what she was supposed to do. “That sounds perfect.”

The echo of those shattering pops sounded in her ears; how was she to tell Killian that she’d lost the necklace of the woman he loved more than life itself? Besides, he and the Jolly Roger would be half-way back to Neverland by now and he might never return

STORYBROOKE -- now

“I’m supposed to be resting,” Wendy only half-heartedly protested as Killian’s hands tucked inside the waistband of her pajama bottoms, sliding them down and over her feet. She wiggled her toes in her cozy striped socks, embarrassed by her plain jane white underwear. “I thought I’d eat dinner and watch a movie, so I didn’t put on anything … special.”

“I love you like this; you’re always sexy, but this is as much of a part of you as the corsets and black lace.” He buried his face against her stomach, pushing up her Mickey t-shirt to kiss the curve below her belly button, along the elastic band of her underwear. “I thought I’d lost you today,” he whispered against her skin.

“You didn’t,” she said on a breathy moan as his lips traveled lower, brushing against the part of her that ached for him, wetting the cotton with his tongue as he pleasured her until she had to wind her hands into his hair and cry out his name.

“Stay still. Let me do this.” He rolled her onto her side and pressed up behind her; hook slipped under her body, coming up to her breast, while his hand slid over the curve of her ass and under the white material until he could stroke her clit. She shivered, let out a little moan; his breath was warm on her neck, and she could feel the soft yarn of his sweater on her skin, the cool of the silver ring on his finger against the hottest part of her body. “I could have lost you,” her murmured, an ache in his voice that reverberated along her spine.

 A soft “Oh” escaped her lips as a finger eased inside at the same time he teased her nipple; she arched into his hand, bending her head back, and he took advantage of the exposed skin of her neck, sucking  small bruises, tongue lavishing along the corded muscle, nipping at her shoulder.

“I won’t lose you,” he whispered against her skin; his voice was like velvet, his touch growing more and more demanding. She couldn’t reach him, her hand only able to glide along his hip, but she could feel him, the heavy denim bulge throbbing against her. He nudged her top leg up, bending her knee with his, tugging off her underwear; a second finger, the one with the ring, joined the first, and the friction was her undoing as he rubbed against the sensitive bundle of nerves. She moaned, dragging in stuttering breaths as the feeling radiated upward, riding the wave that was building. Just as she felt the pleasure start to crest, his fingers left, and he pulled back, leaving her hanging.

“Please,” she managed a whimper, reaching back with her hand. “Please.”

Then he was entering her, pushing her forward until her knee lay flat on the bed, hand splayed on the quilt. He was desperate for her, thrusting into her with abandon, his mouth at her ear, endearments and curses and words of love pouring into her.  She let him take her, so ready that her own climax took only a few strokes before she was clenching around him.

“Can’t lose you, mine, won’t … ah, fuck, love …. Darling … Wendy … can’t …”

He groaned when he came; she was lost still in her own orgasm and dragged him with her as the wave crashed over them both. Panting, they lay joined, spiraling back down to their bodies. She twined her fingers with his hand that held tight against her stomach and simply let herself revel in the closeness, the complete intimacy of the moment.

When he pulled out and rolled off the bed, she started to complain, but he was back quickly, gathering her up in his arms. “You okay?” He asked, worried. “That wasn’t exactly restful.”

“That was amazing,” she teased. “I am boneless and without the least inkling of stress right now. Hungry though. Think the food is still hot?”

“Wouldn’t be the first time we’ve eaten it cold,” he laughed. They stayed that way for a good few minutes before he finally heaved himself up and went to get the food, tossing his sweater away and tugging his jeans up over hips, but leaving them undone. She followed him with her eyes as she searched for her underwear in the bed, drinking in the easy swagger as he opened the bag and looked through the white cartons. God, she was so damn lucky … how easily things could have turned out worse for them. Like they did for Ruby.

“What is that look for?” He asked; she glanced up, realizing her thoughts had strayed into sad territory.

“Just thinking about Ruby and what happened with Van. How quickly things went wrong.”

“That’s life, love. We have to be prepared for anything. Live today, love today. Make the most of the time we have.” He gave her that patented smile, the one that melted her heart into a puddle of love. Opening the bathroom door, he let JM out, scooped the pup up and put him on bed. “Now this little guy gets his own plate. He’s the hero of the hour.”

“You are not going to feed him Thai food,” Wendy ordered but Killian was already putting a plate with bits of chicken and beef out for the little dog.

“Oh, let him be spoiled for one night. He can watch the movie with us. What did you pick?”

Wendy reached for the remote and pressed play; he brought a bowl of soup for her and a loaded plate for himself, scooting next to her as JM wolfed down his offerings and turned puppy dog eyes to Killian.

“Now look what you’ve started,” Wendy nodded at the begging dog.

“It won’t hurt him.” Killian gave him a few more morsels.

“That’s it, though. No more.” She was losing this battle; no way to win with two sets of blue eyes turning on her.

“Yo ho, Yo ho, a Pirate’s life for me …” the little girl stood on the deck and sang.

“A pirate movie?” he laughed.

“A romance,” she returned. “Besides Captain Jack Sparrow is cute … ”

He cocked an eyebrow and waited.

“… not as cute as you of course,” she finished.

“I was worried there for a second.”

“You never have need to be.”


	10. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Unexpected news all around ... you didn't think I could just leave this without a cliff hanger, did you?

NEWCASTLE-UPON-TYNE – Now

The coffee shop was blessedly empty, too early for tea, too late for lunch. He got a table by the window, chair pulled into the corner, and nursed his cup of Earl Grey. Money was running low, and he’d yet to figure out a way to get more; not that he was above stealing, but everything was so different and he didn’t know the lay of the land. He needed to sit and observe, learn, if he was going to survive. At least he’d managed to find a place to stay – a shelter they called it – somewhere they didn’t press for too much information. None of what he could tell them would make sense anyway.

“Brooding so early in the afternoon, brother?” The chair slid out, and Vlad sat down, motioning to the server. “A cup of what he’s having, please. Do you have any blueberry scones? I’ll have one if you do.”

“How can you be here?” Van asked, confused. When the medallion had activated, he’d found himself here with nothing but the ashes of Peter Quincy and a burned out magical talisman. That was only nine days ago.

“I’ve been waiting for you. Found a scholar who knew the properties of the magic who predicted you wouldn’t arrive back in the same time you left, and she told me how to locate you when you did show up.” Vlad sat back in his chair, long legs stretched out, completely at ease.

“No. How are you here? It’s broad daylight outside.” That was impossible, Van knew.

“Oh, well, it’s a long story. Suffice it to say, science has advanced in the time you were gone. There’s a pill for that.” He nodded his thanks for the tea and scone, added some sugar and cream, stirred and took a sip. “Now you’re going to ask me how I’m here, what happened … quite a list of topics to cover? Where would you like me to start?”

“Red? What did you do to her?” Van demanded, the image of the beautiful brunette first and foremost in his mind.

“Why, nothing. I left her and her friend, along with the children, in the hands of Snow White, who, by the way, became Queen not that long after,” Vlad smiled.

“Since you’re here, you must have a way to travel between worlds. Take me back there. To Red.”

“Well, I imagine you could go back, but it would be fruitless. Red isn’t there.”

A shot of fear rolled through him. “Where is she?” he growled.

“Calm down. She’s right here. In a strange little town called Storybrooke, Maine. That’s in the United States. Safe. Sort of.” He broke off a piece of scone and ate it, the offered the rest to Van. “Here, you look like you could use this more than me.”

“Damn it, tell me what happened.” Van pushed the plate away.

“Well, it all started with a curse ….”

STORYBROOKE – Now

“Bye, Ms. Davies!” Peter waved happily as he climbed into his parents’ car. The boy had been a real stinker all day and now was all smiles and hugs and rainbows. Figures. The parents would never believe her if she tried to suggest counseling for the little boy. But he needed it; suddenly remembering a whole different life, and that your mom and dad weren’t your real mom and dad but a loving, if clueless, adoptive couple, made for one unhappy child.

“I have so much work to do tonight.” Emily, the sixth grade teacher, shifted the straps of her loaded book bag. “I’d give anything for it to be Christmas break. You walking home?”

In the two days since almost drowning, it seemed that everyone was conspiring for Wendy to not be alone. Killian walked her to work, Red showed up to take her out for a sundae, even Regina had appeared at school and stayed in the hallway far too long to just be passing through.

“Thanks, Em, but someone’s coming … oh, there he is.” Wendy nodded to Dr. Whale who was strolling up the sidewalk. “He was nice enough to do my follow-up visit this way.”

“A school call? Wow, didn’t know Doctors did that any more. If you weren’t already taken, I’d say he was sweet on you,” Emily laughed. “Hello, Dr. Whale!” she called as he neared. “Lovely to see you outside of the hospital. Much less stressful, wouldn’t you say?”

“Indeed, Ms. Gale, I would. Are you ready, Wendy?” He nodded to her.

“Yes.” She started to pick up her tote bag, but he beat her to it, hoisting the filled-to-the-brim bag.

“What do you have in here?” He asked, surprised by the weight.

“Papers. And books. Tools of the trade.” She was glad to not carry it, honestly. She was tired today; getting out of bed was a real chore this morning, and a very warm, very horny pirate didn’t make it any easier for her. “That’s why teachers always have one shoulder lower than the other. Book bags.”

The walked down the block and turned for the marina; the day was chilly, but there was no wind so it was rather pleasant with the sun on her face.

“So,” they both began at the same time, and then chuckled.

“You first,” he offered.

“I was just going to ask what you wanted to tell me. I assume that’s why you’re here, unless you are part of the “Wendy can’t be alone” conspiracy.”

When he smiled, he was quite handsome, Wendy noted, wondering if he was dating anyone. Red needed someone to cheer her up, after all, and Wendy was feeling guilty about how happy she was with Killian. “Actually, it’s both. We’re all watching out for you and Belle. But I need to tell you something. About your blood tests that we took to check your oxygen levels.”

She paused as they passed through the park, near the very spot where she’d discovered JM and his brothers; her stomach fluttered, a moment of worry. “Yes?”

“There’s no good way to tell you this, so I’m going to sit you down and just go for it.” He guided her into the gazebo to find a seat, lowering her bag to the ground.

“Now you’re scaring me.” And he was. What could be so bad? Was she sick? Dying?

“You’re pregnant.”

The world slammed to a halt, and she stared at him, uncomprehendingly.

“What? No. I can’t be. I mean, well, yes, I could be, but …” She trailed off; oh, god, they hadn’t been all that careful lately, too caught up in the danger of their lives to worry about birth control every time.

“Here,” he pressed a piece of paper into her trembling hands. “This is a prescription for prenatal vitamins. If you need to talk about your options, let me know.”

“Options?” She looked up at him. “There’s only one option.”

“Then get that filled and start taking care of yourself.”

“I see you’ve been drafted.” Killian took the steps two at a time, JM scampering up behind him and pawing at Wendy’s leg. “Everyone in town has enlisted in the Wendy army, it seems.” His smile faded as he sensed Wendy’s emotions.

“Go easy on her,” Whale warned as he beat a hasty retreat. “Don’t be an idiot.”

“Wendy, love, what is it?” He sat down beside her, taking her cold hands in his, rubbing them to warm up. “Tell me.”

“It’s just, well, I mean, I wasn’t thinking.” Gods, but what was he going to do? This was the last thing they needed right now, with Cora still out there and the cold war with Mr. Gold.  Options, Dr. Whale had said; there was no way she wasn’t keeping this baby – dark haired and blue-eyed little boy or girl with a devilish smile and a charm to spare – but he didn’t have to be tied down like this. She could  … what? Not tell him? Storybrooke was a small town, and there’d be no hiding in a few months. Raise the child without his help? No. She was fearless Wendy Darling. Running away wasn’t how she did things.

“Spit it out, darling. You’re worrying me.”

She took a deep breath.

“I’m pregnant.”


End file.
